What goes around comes around
by blue peanut m and m
Summary: Dean's taken, but by whom or what? Blindfolded, tied and beaten, why won't anyone talk to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumping, limp and hurt Sam to follow. Angst! Set after season 2 so  but no spoilers for anything after that. Rated k
1. Chapter 1

**What goes around comes around.**

**Summary. . . . . . Dean's taken, but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten why won't anybody speak to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumping, limp and hurt Sam. Set in season two, so no spoilers at all.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . Still owned by the talent that is Kripkie, I just like seeing them hurt!**

**A.N. . . . Thought that I would try my hand at a little bit of Deano bashing. This little plot bunnie came my way and just wouldn't leave me be, so here goes nothing, hope you enjoy!**

**Oh and for fans of Sammy bashing there's some of that too. I know, I know but what can I say I just love limping Sam!**

The freezing cold water striking his face and bare chest had Dean rousing back to consciousness once more. Instantly he knew that he was still hanging by his bound wrists from a hook attached to the ceiling. He knew that as well as his shirt, his jeans, boots and socks had also been removed. He knew that although blindfolded it was once again morning, from the little chink of light managing to sneak past the bottom edge of the cloth. And he knew that Sam still wasn't here, that wherever Sam had been taken to it wasn't this room.

Struggling desperately to get his tired mind to work, he thought back trying to remember how many days Sam had been missing. It had been two days since another failed attempt at fighting back had resulted in him being strung from the ceiling. Three days before that, that Dean had been taken. By whom he did not know, fear and concern for Sam making him less in tune with his surroundings and a quick blow to the head from behind had him unconscious in seconds. Consciousness had found him tied up and blindfolded. It had been five days, eleven hours and thirty six minutes before that, that Sam had gone missing. So nearly eleven days since this hell had started and Dean was no closer to finding anything out about his captors.

Hell he wasn't even sure if him and Sam had been taken by the same people, shit for that matter he didn't even know if they were people that had taken them. Not knowing where Sam was, how he was doing, was killing Dean. Was he hurting? Was he even still alive? No, Dean refused to believe that Sam was anything but alive, even when thoughts would rush over and over through his head that Sam might be seriously hurt, might be dead. Dean would push them away and resolutely refused to believe them. No, Sam was still alive. Where? Dean didn't know. Still captive? Dean was unsure. But Alive, Dean knew he most definitely was.

Hearing movement beside him Dean couldn't help the shudder that coursed through out his body. He spun wildly in the direction of the sound, hoping to catch a clue from the small gap in the blindfold. A well aimed punch to his ribs put paid to that idea as his body jerked violently from the blow and he spun uselessly by his bound wrists. This was how everyday started. An unknown assailant would come in, wake him up either with a slap to the face or as they had done this morning with the cold water treatment, before the beatings began.

So far the beatings had not been anything Dean could not handle; he had received worse hustling pool before now. No the beatings he had been able to handle them, it was the constant silence that was beginning to get to him, wearing him down and shaking him to his very core. For the whole five days he had been held captive, not one word had been spoken to him. No demands, no mutterings of wanting payback, nothing.

The silence that came with every beating was beginning to shred his nerves. He found himself trying desperately to evoke a reaction, but not knowing who or what had taken him was making even this hard to do. How could you wind somebody up, if you didn't know what buttons to press? Not wanting to just hang there and take what was on today's menu, Dean tried again to find out who or what had orchestrated this little stunt.

"Who are you? What do you want? What have you done with my brother? Where's Sam?"

Another vicious blow to Dean's already battered side had him gasping for breathe, the questions cut off as he felt the sharp crack of his ribs breaking. Struggling to take in much needed air, whilst trying hard not to jar the broken bones, he fought the darkness that threatened to take hold of him once more. He couldn't pass out now. If he was going through this, he could only imagine that it was being done to Sam too and Sam had been gone a lot longer. What state would his brother be in? No, he had to stay strong, he had to stay focused, he had to fight back, he had to get free and he had to get Sam.

He tried to straighten himself as much as possible, tried to will his body to look defiant, tried to make his voice come across with a strength he didn't feel, as he asked once more.

"Who are you? What do you want? What have you done with my brother? Where's Sam?"

Bracing himself for the blows that he knew would come; Dean was surprised when then didn't arrive and shocked when a voice finally spoke to him.

"Hello Dean. Long time no see."

He was even more surprised and shocked when he realized he recognized the owner. A sense of foreboding, dread, disgust, anger and fear washed over him. Shit this could not be happening. This didn't bode well for Dean, but it meant that where ever Sam was, he had to be going through a hell of a lot worse.

"I should have just killed you." Dean finally spoke out. "If you have hurt my brother in any way Gordon, I won't hesitate to do so this time. No matter how much Sam begs me not to."

Gordon laughed at Dean's bravado, but didn't answer. He hadn't wanted to let Dean know yet that it was even him that had taken Dean captive, but the older Winchester's refusal to give up; to give in had become boring. As he had stood there watching the blow that had broken the younger mans ribs, watching as Dean had built up his walls again, he had decided to reveal himself. It had gotten him the reaction that he had craved though. Dean's features had registered shock at first, then anger, then fear. The fear, Gordon knew, not for himself but for poor, little, innocent Sammy.

"Gordon. Where. Is. Sam?"

"He's hanging around Dean, not doing so well though, he's feeling a little under the weather."

"You bastard, I will kill you." Dean turned in what he hoped was the right direction and gathering as much moisture as possible spat at Gordon.

"I don't think that you're in any position to do that, Dean. And for your little disgusting display just then, I think we should punish Sam."

"Gordon, you bastard, don't you dare." Dean's heart rate increased at the thought of his brother getting hurt because of him. At getting no answer from the callous hunter he tried a different approach. Swallowing down the bile that rose in his throat at the thought, he pleaded. "No, no Gordon, please no, don't."

"You're just too easy Dean." Gordon heartlessly laughed at Dean's begging. "Okay, Sam won't be hurt. . . . . . . Not yet anyway. It wouldn't be any fun when he's barely even conscious enough to feel the pain from the last beating he received."

Dean knew that the Gordon was trying to goad him into a reaction once more, so he let the comment slide, deciding instead to try and get more information out of the older hunter.

"Why are you doing this? What have you done with Sam? Let me see my brother?"

"You know why I'm doing this Dean. You left me in that house for days, and then you turn me into the police. What is it that people say? What goes around comes around? You should have just killed me last time, Dean. Your demon brother is making you go soft. You were once a great hunter, now you're nothing. You're lower than the scum you use to hunt." Gordon leaned in closer and whispered in to Dean's ear. "Payback is a bitch Dean. And I'm getting my share, with you and with Sam. He's hurting you know, much worse than you are. He's begging for you to come save him. . . . . ."

Dean couldn't help it. His concerns, his worries and his fears for his brother's well being tore away at his heart. Common sense flew out of the window, as anger consumed him. Bringing his head back forcefully, he aimed for what he hoped was Gordon's face.

Although the blow struck home, there was little to no power behind it. Not hurting his captor, just catching him off guard and angering him. Shocked at first, Gordon soon recovered. Nodding to his partner, he stood back and watched as blow after blow was rained down on Dean, a sadistic smirk gracing his face.

Dean tried moving away as the blows landed, tried to desperately protect his injured side. A fist caught him suddenly on his face, the sound of yet more bones breaking sending a sickening feeling to his stomach. He tried to find the strength to lift his legs, to use them to catch whoever was hurting him and try to throw him off balance. He finally succeeded in aiming them towards his assailant, but again the strength was just not there and the resulting swing brought his damaged side straight into the path of the relentless punches.

He couldn't help the scream of agony that escaped him as the next two punches hit their mark. Jagged spikes of pain shot through out his body and darkness once more threatened to overcome him. This time though the pain was forcing him under. His thoughts flitting between the knowledge that Gordon was not alone, he had been behind Dean when the first punch landed; and Sam, his brother was out there, beaten and in pain and pleading for Dean to come rescue him, to come save him.

Dean surrendered to the darkness, with one final thought on his mind. How where they going to get out of this one?

**A.N. . . . . Well, how was it? Hope it was okay. Thanks as always to everyone for reading and I'll catch you soon, Peanut x**


	2. Chapter 2

**What goes around comes around.**

**Summary. . . . . Dean's taken, but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten, why won't anybody speak to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumping, limp and hurt Sam to follow. Set in season 2, so no spoilers.**

**Disclaimer. . . . I own only the plot line; the rest is Kripkie's.**

**A.N. . . . . I can't thank you all out there in fanficland enough for the fantastic response so far to this fic. I pray that I can keep you hooked for the remainder of the plot. Happy reading, see you at the end of the chapter, Peanut x**

Fighting his way back through the layers of his consciousness, Dean was wondering what had awakened him from the place that he felt safe and warm in, the place where there was no pain. He could see through the little gap that it was still night time and so far he had been left alone after dark, the beatings only coming during the day. Moving just the slightest bit had him realizing what had woken him.

Agonizing, piercing pain was shooting from his shoulders and traveling down his torso and arms, and up his neck, pins and needles attacking him all over. Somebody had decided that two days being hung up had obviously been enough and had taken him down whilst he had been floating in dreamland. He tried to calm himself as he waited for the pain to abate, tried not to move allowing the blood to flow back in to his numb hands.

When he felt that the pain was comfortable enough to bear, he gingerly tried to move without jolting his broken ribs. The wave of dizziness that washed over him as he did so had him fighting down the urge to vomit, knowing that if he succumbed to the nausea the pain he was feeling now would be nothing compared to what would come. Eventually the waves calmed down to ripples and Dean managed to sit up.

He found once he did so that although he was still bound, his wrists now tied behind his back, he was at least free to roam around. That was if he could muster the strength to move, just sitting up had exhausted him. In the end he decided to shuffle on his behind until his bare back hit a wall. He battled once more to stop himself making any sudden movements as the coldness of the wall reminded him of his lack of clothes, instead he gently leaned his body away from its biting chill. He could already feel it seeping into his bones though and goose bumps began popping up as shivers began wracking his frame.

Dean tried to get his mind off the how cold, tired, hungry, thirsty and in pain he was. But every time he succeeded his memories of the fact that Sam was here some where would start flooding back in bringing with it all the worries and the guilt and the blame, bringing with it the thought that Sam was probably hurting a lot more than Dean was. He desperately needed to see Sam, to see that he was alive, to make sure that he was okay, to reassure him that every thing was going to be fine.

He briefly wondered if Gordon even had Sam, but his instincts told him that the heartless hunter did. He anxiously wondered what had been done to his brother, wondered if he had also been used as a human punching bag, wondered how many broken bones Sam had, wondered what haunting things Gordon would have said that Sam in an emotional state would have taken to heart. He prayed that they had given Sam food and water. That he hadn't been left to die slowly and painfully from dehydration.

It was as his thoughts would reach this point that Dean would force his melancholy back and would begin instead to think of ways out of this situation, to think of ways to get free. As always though, all his plans needed for his hands to be free. Or at least tied in front, but so far Gordon had kept them firmly tied behind his back.

Sighing deeply he decided that if they weren't going to let him see Sam, he would at least try and let Sam know that he was there and hope that it would bring Sam some comfort. He began shouting again and again.

"Sammy! I'm here bros; you've just got to hold on. Try to be strong."

After he finished he would listen quietly, waiting for any indication that Sam had heard and was giving Dean his own reassurances. After getting nothing he would start all over again. He was on his sixth attempt when the door to his room smashed open and banged loudly against the wall.

"Gordon? Let me see Sam, please." His request was met with silence.

"Gordon? You bastard, answer me. Let me see Sam."

Still silence was his only answer. The heaviness of which had Dean once again unnerved. He struggled awkwardly to his feet and moved towards the bit of light he could see, speaking words all the way.

"Who are you? Gordon is that you? Somebody answer me. Where's Sam?"

He figured that he had made it halfway across the room before rough hands slammed into his chest and pushed him back to the floor. There was nothing that he could do to stop himself from crashing backwards, nothing that he could do to brace the fall. His wrists, still bound cumbersomely behind his back, taking the full force of his weight as he crashed down onto them.

Dean couldn't decide which had caused him more pain. His ribs as they shook on impact, his broken nose that was harshly jarred as his head collided with the solid floor or his wrist as, with a sickening snap, he felt yet more of his bones break. He couldn't help the tears that sprang to his eyes, thankful for the blindfold that hid them from who ever else was in the room with him.

"Son of a bitch!" He screamed through clenched teeth.

Turning onto his good side, as yet another wave of nausea rolled alarmingly through his stomach, he tried to reposition his wrists so that the broken one wasn't causing him as much pain. He tried to breathe through the sickness and the agony like his Dad had taught both himself and Sam to do.

Looking towards where the light was coming from he tried to see if he could make anything out, tried to see if Sam was there. The fall to the floor had mad the gap bigger, but all that Dean could really see were blurry shapes. It did tell him that there were at least three people in the room with him though. His heart beat soared thinking that one of them could be Sam. He tried again to call out to his brother.

"Sam? Sammy? Gordon, if Sam's there with you please let me see him. Please let him at least answer me. Gordon, please." Dean despised how plea full his voice sounded, begging almost. He hated it even more when it didn't gain him anything.

Something being scrapped across the floor had Dean's curiosity piqued and his nerves jangled. What the hell was that? What was going on? What were they planning now? He found it alarming how much being in the dark for so long had affected him. He could no longer musty any of his cocky, brash attitude, instead he found himself panicky and agitated all the time. Not quite at the point of hysteria, but well on the way.

He jumped as hands grabbed him and hauled him to his feet and steadied him as he threatened to fall back down. He was perplexed as the bonds tying his wrists were cut away. The same hands that had picked him up suddenly thrust him into a chair. He instinctively raised his hands desperate to get the blindfold off, desperate to maybe catch a glimpse of his brother. Other hands prevented him, blocking his way. The sound of a gun being cocked also halting his attempts. A voice finally spoke out.

"I wouldn't attempt to remove it Dean. The gun is pointed at you but I could just as easily aim it at Sammy's head."

Sam! Sam was in the room with him.

"Sam? Sammy, answer me! Please just tell me that you're okay." Dean's voice cracked as his concerns for Sam grew and sent his emotions into a tail spin. What was wrong with Sam? Why wouldn't he answer him? Was he unconscious? Was he even there? To Dean there could be no other reasons. Even if Sam were gagged he should still be able to hear his muffles.

"Gordon, what have you done? Why won't Sam answer me? Is he even here?"

"Oh he's here Dean. He just doesn't want to talk to you. Or should I say that he can't talk to you."

"You sick fuck! What have you done to him?"

"Shall we just say that we had a little bit of fun? But somehow I don't think that Sam will see it that way."

"I meant what I said Gordon, I will kill you for this."

"You're beginning to sound like a broken record Dean, always threatening me and here I was going to be nice and let you see Sam. I think I've changed my mind."

"Gordon, please, no. Please let me see Sam."

The words came out of Dean's mouth before he could stop himself. He knew that Gordon was using Sam against him, hoping for just that type of reaction, but the despondency at not knowing what was happening to Sam was making Dean irrational.

"You were never going to let me see Sam were you?" Dean's voice cracked with emotion yet again.

"No, no I wasn't. It's just too much fun watching you sweat, watching you work yourself up, and worrying about what's being done to baby brother. But I was here to be nice though Dean. I came to give you some water, we can't have you dying on us, not when the fun has only just begun. Plus it's not you I have issues with."

"You shouldn't have issues with Sam either. You're wrong about him Gordon. He doesn't have an evil bone in his body."

"You and I both know you're lying Dean, so you might as well conserve your breath and save your preaching for someone who is listening. Sammy will turn evil, we both know it. It's just a case of when." Gordon paused, before changing subjects. "I'm going to place a bottle in your hand, remember Dean don't try anything. I still have the gun on you."

Dean felt the cold bottle placed in his undamaged hand. He thought fleetingly of hurling the damn thing at Gordon, but common sense prevailed. He would need to try and keep his strength up if he was going to get them both out of here, so he gulped down the liquid relishing the cool wetness on his parched throat, only stopping when the bottle was empty. Deciding to test Gordon's kindness further, Dean quickly asked.

"Gordon, let me see Sam. Let me just see that he is okay."

"I don't think so."

"Gordon, please."

"No!" The tone of the hunter's voice leaving no room for argument.

Dean's temper rose. He needed to just glimpse Sam, if he could do that then he knew that he could take any thing else that his captor's threw at him. He sprang suddenly at Gordon, not caring about his injuries, just his desire to see his younger brother. With his good hand he managed to land a punch on the man's face before somebody grabbed him forcefully from behind.

He very nearly passed out from the pain as his hands were cuffed tightly in front of him. He prayed that in the confusion that Gordon wouldn't realize what his goon had done. He felt himself being pushed back into the chair before hand's grasped him around the throat and started squeezing.

"You are going to pay for that Dean." Gordon's voice whispered in his ear as his hand's squeezed even tighter.

Dean endeavored to remove the hand's that were choking him, his broken limb making his efforts half hearted at best. His throat began closing and he strived to get even the smallest breath to pass through. As oblivion threatened once more his ears started to pick up noises. The hand's released their grip from around his neck and as the sound of his own heart beat lessoned he picked up the noises once more.

The sharp crack of a whip hitting flesh, quickly followed by a sound Dean unfortunately knew all to well, Sam's heartbreaking screams of pain.

Tears of frustration fell from his eyes and collected in the blind fold. Guilt wormed its way into his heart once more. He started begging, pleading for them to leave Sam alone, but Sam's screams only got louder as the frequency of the lashes increased.

Dean started yelling for the punishment to end, for them to take it out on him instead. He fought against the hands held him down, trying to get to Sam, only stopping when the butt of the gun smashed into his head and he surrendered to the blackness again.

**A.N. . . . Thanks as always for reading. I hope that was okay for you, Peanut x**


	3. Chapter 3

**What goes around comes around.**

**Summary. . . . . Dean's taken, but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten why won't anybody talk to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumpage, hurt and angst Sam to follow. Set in season two so no spoilers.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . Thought today of all days I might have received my wish, but alas no, they're still not mine.**

**A.N. . . . . Sorry about the longer than normal wait for an update, but I wanted to wait so that I could dedicate this chapter to someone who today passes that dreaded realm that means they are closer to forty than thirty. So this chapter is for me! Yes it's my b'day.**

**Enjoy reading and I hope that you like, Peanut x**

Dean felt as though he was slowly being driven insane. The constant darkness from the blindfold was making him paranoid and irrational. The slightest noise had him spooked and jumping. The softest movement of air and he was shrinking from the touch. He knew that sometime during his latest blackout he had been moved.

He had woken earlier to find himself still blindfolded but now handcuffed to a bed. A bed that he could tell from lack of coldness was in a different room to the one he had first been kept in. If he moved his legs and touched the floor he found it to be carpeted, threadbare but still carpeted. All sense of time had now deserted him, he had no idea how long he had been out last time, no idea if it was even day or night. Although it was less chilly here there seemed to be less light, depriving Dean of his one little vestige of keeping time.

He had started panicking instantly. Was Sam here? Had Sam also been moved? Was Sam somewhere else in this place? Or was he somewhere else entirely? What if Sam wasn't here? Where was he? Was he with Gordon being hurt some more? Or was he all alone?

That thought had been the one that had pushed Dean dangerously close to the edge where he now found himself balancing precariously between lucid and deranged. The thought that Sam was out there, hurt and in pain was bad enough, but the thought that his brother was all alone was killing him. All his life he had been told to "watch out for Sammy, Dean" to think that at this moment he couldn't do that was like a knife to the heart that was slowly being twisted, the pain of that knowledge preceding all his physical discomforts.

He found himself whispering over and over again. "Please be okay Sam, please just hang on." This small mantra and the knowledge that he was Sam's only hope, were the only things that grounded him, the only things stopping him from falling, the only things keeping him this side of insanity.

He found himself slightly jarring his broken wrist on purpose. Finding that the pain would break his depressive thinking allowing him small moments when he could think more rationally, well as rationally as you could think through the searing pain the movement caused. He wondered if Bobby was worried about them yet, he was the one who had sent them to check out the latest possible released from hell demon sighting. Surely the guy was worried?

But even this thought didn't fill Dean with much hope. Even if Bobby were worried, as good a hunter as he was, how the hell was he going to know where to start looking for them? However small that hope was though it was all that Dean had to go on, all he had to keep from thinking they were all alone.

He could feel himself becoming dispirited once more and jostled his wrist again. He had to believe that Bobby was looking for them and if he believed that then he had to start looking for ways to get himself free, get himself out of this mess and getting to Sam. Releasing himself from the handcuffs he knew would not be easy. Gordon's goon had pushed them as tight as they would go against his wrists. His only hope then would be to somehow get them from around the bed frame.

Using his good hand he felt the frame, almost grinning with pleasure at his first stroke of luck. It was wooden. He slowly started to grasp it, testing its strength. It was solid, but not completely, Dean figured given time he should be able to snap it. He grabbed hold of it one handed and pulled with all his strength. The spindle didn't move, but Dean did. He bucked wildly off the bed as the force of the pull jolted his defective limb savagely.

His piercing scream intensified in the small room and battered his heightened hearing. He turned quickly to his side as the bile rose in his throat and heaved his meager stomach contents on to the floor beside him. To busy fighting down the feelings of nausea, he didn't hear the door to the room open only realizing that someone was there when he heard Gordon start laughing.

Dean stilled instantly. He willed himself to fight through the pain, to quell his unsettled stomach. Knowing that he sounded weak and needy he spoke desperate words.

"Gordon, how's Sammy? What have you done to him? Is he okay? Please just let me see him?"

Gordon's laughter boomed out once more. "My, how the mighty have fallen. The great Dean Winchester, hard assed, tough talking, hunter reduced to begging at my feet."

"Gordon! How is Sam?"

"Sam's fine for now. You have my word on that."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you, your word not meaning all that much to me. Let me see for myself."

"You not believing me cuts me deep Dean. I'm actually hurt."

"God damn it Gordon! Are you going to let me see Sam?"

"Hmmm, let me think for a minute. No!"

"You bastard!" Dean spat the words out, his legs kicking out hoping that Gordon was near.

"Tut, tut, Dean. You know how much you getting mad cost little Sammy last time. I really think you should learn to control your temper, learn to reign it in or one of these days you're gonna get poor Sam killed."

"I swear to god Gordon, you're dead when I get out of here."

"So you keep telling me Dean. So far I like my odds of surviving, more than Sam's. The evil side of Sam wants to come out and pretty soon he won't be strong enough to prevent it. But you know that the minute he changes he will have to be killed."

"I told you before Gordon, you're wrong about Sam. He would never turn evil. He would rather die first."

"No Dean, you're the one who is wrong about Sam. He's your brother, I get that. That's why you can't see what he will become. Why you can't see him for what he truly is. A monster that will do evil's bidding."

"Fuck you, Gordon. You're more monster than Sam ever will be."

"We will see."

"What does that mean?"

At getting no answer Dean's thoughts began to wander. What the hell could Gordon mean? What was happening to Sammy?

"Gordon, let me see Sam."

Dean still getting no answer began to think that yet again he had been left alone. His other senses overcompensating for his lack of sight though told him otherwise. If he stilled himself and his breathing he could just make out the slight rustle of clothing, his sense of smell picking up faint odors as well. The feeling of someone just quietly watching him rattled Dean. Why where they doing this? Why not just kill them and get it over with?

It felt, to Dean, like hours had past since Gordon's last words had been spoken, although he knew that it was only minutes. Even though he could not see the other person, Dean felt as though their gaze never left him, was always watching him. It was demoralizing and perturbing, making his already fraught nerves become tauter and tauter.

The scrape of a chair being dragged into the room once again finally brought Dean some relief. He knew that he wasn't going to like what was coming next, but anything was better than the complete and utter silence. He could only hope and pray that it was going to be him rather than Sam that was in for the punishment this time.

For once his prayers were answered as Dean felt the restraints being unlocked before hands clutched at his wrists and he was pulled none too softly to his feet. Dean bit back a cry of pain that wanted to escape him, as the hand twisted and crushed his already broken bones more. He concentrated his efforts instead to not falling flat on his butt, his equilibrium struggling to get back to normal after being lay down too long. He'd just succeeded in regaining it when he was thrust back down and into the chair, his arms once more being cuffed behind his back.

Dean sat and waited. Nothing happened. He moved his head trying to get a glimpse of something, anything beneath the small gap. Nothing. He tried cocking his head from side to side hoping to get a slight sound of movement. Nothing. He moved his legs around hoping to touch anything, but yet again there was nothing.

His heartbeat quickened, as did his breathing. Sweat began to form on his brow and his hands started to get clammy. But still no sound, no movement could be heard. He tried desperately to will himself once more to calm down, but once again the stillness, the dead quiet had him on edge, flustered. He eventually couldn't help it and shouted out.

"Gordon, if you're going to hurt me, get it the fuck over with."

It was almost as if Gordon had been waiting for just that kind of response. His rumbling laughter once more filled the room, breaking the silence.

"What's the matter Dean? Are you so eager for a beating or am I making you twitchy? I tell you what I won't keep you waiting any longer shall I?"

Dean had prepared himself, or so he thought, for what was about to come his way. The first punch though still caught him unawares as it thundered into his face, catching him in the mouth splitting his lip instantly and breaking his front teeth, the jagged edges of which punching holes into his mouth.

Punch after punch followed landing on Dean's arms, head, chest, face, stomach and ribs. He prayed again hoping that once more they would be answered. Prayed for the blessed blackness to take him once more, but every time he thought it would do, another jolt of pain from yet another punch would bring him back from the brink.

Eventually they stopped raining down and Dean fighting for breath and feeling much braver than he felt managed to grind out.

"Is that all you got Gordon?" Dean's head dropped to his chest when he had finished.

A hand reached out to grab him by the chin and pull his head back up, for one brief moment Dean caught a glimpse of something through the gap. He must have been seeing things surely? He must be hurt worse than he thought? It couldn't be? It had only been a brief glimpse, but no it just couldn't be?

He opened his mouth, a question forming ready to be asked. . . . .

**A.N. . . . . . How very evil of me! Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading and for reviewing, Peanut x**


	4. Chapter 4

**What goes around comes around.**

**Summary. . . . . Dean's taken, but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten why won't anyone talk to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumpage, hurt and angst Sam to follow. Set season 2 so no spoilers. Rated K+.**

**Disclaimer. . . . Still only an avid watcher, reader and writer. I own nothing.**

**A.N. . . . . Still find myself over whelmed at the response to this fic, so again I send my heartfelt thank you, to all who have reviewed, added to favs or alerts and to those who have just taken time out to read. Enjoy chapter 4, Peanut x**

**A.N.2. . . . Well here it is funkyspunk, hope it was worth the wait.**

For one brief moment Dean caught a look of something beneath the gap. He must have been seeing things surely? It had after all only been a quick glimpse. It couldn't be? He opened his mouth a question forming on the tip of his tongue. . . . .

He tried his hardest to get the words to form, to have his question asked, but some part of him was stopping it from happening. If he asked the question, would he like the answer? Was it not better to not know something that could possibly hurt him more than the beatings, the silence and the darkness combined had?

He found himself praying that what he had seen was all a figment of his imagination. Praying that he could turn back time and the sight he had seen would not be there when he looked again. Praying for it to be dark and silent once more.

How ever much this side of him was trying to stop him from finding the answer, the other side of him needed to know and this side was stronger. He closed his mouth and took a deep breath before finally asking the question he knew deep down he already knew the answer to.

"Sammy?"

Dean didn't expect an answer and he didn't receive one but he knew that Sam was the one who was currently holding his face in a vice like grip. The minute that he had seen the thin strand of leather he had known. Okay, it wasn't an uncommon thing for somebody to have, but Dean had given Sam this one and Dean had been the one who had tied it in just such a way.

No, Dean knew it was Sam. He knew that Sam was the one behind his last beating and he knew that Sam was the one who had most likely administered the previous ones also. What he didn't know was why? Why had Sam done this? What was wrong with his brother? What had been done to him to make him this way?

His desperation, his need to know why, his need to see Sam increased. He tried once again to get Sam to talk to him, but again received no answer. He tried to move his head in an effort to get more than just a glance of flesh and leather. But Sam's grip held.

"Gordon, I know that you are there and I know that it's Sam so the blindfold is unnecessary. Let me see Sam?"

Gordon was furious. What had they missed? How did Dean know? Their plan whilst working, was not yet complete and until it was he had been hoping to keep the truth from Dean. Now that had all been blown out the window. He looked at Sam radiating anger before him, beaten and broken, no longer the man that Dean knew and a small smile graced his face.

Maybe they couldn't go with the original plan, but seeing Sam like this would destroy Dean and that was something Gordon so desperately wanted to do. He nodded to his partner to restrain Sam before walking to Dean and started to talk.

"I see that you finally figured it out Dean, I don't know how though. I guess that there is a brain in that head of yours after all. But if you think that by seeing Sam you will get to save him, I must warn you that you will be very, very disappointed. Sam's changing, he's well on his way to being pure evil and there's nothing that you can do to stop it."

Gordon reached around and cut the blindfold from Dean's eyes. The sudden exposure, after so many days of darkness, to the harsh over head lights making him cry out in pain and shut his eyes tightly trying to alleviate the hurt. As the pounding in his head subsided Dean blinked trying to get his vision to focus. He found though that once he had managed to do this, all be it still blurry, he was wishing for the darkness to return as for the first time in nearly two weeks he got a look at his baby brother and the damage that Gordon had done.

Although he tried to stay strong, tried to stay tough, at that first glance Dean failed miserably. Tears sprang to his eyes and he allowed them to flow freely, shamelessly down his face. Sam was a mess.

His brother's shoes and socks had been removed. His feet now bloodied and filthy, small cuts and scraps covering them. His jeans, unlike Dean's, had been kept on but fourteen days of muck, sweat and blood had discolored them so much you couldn't tell they were jeans. Tears riddled them and in parts they were reduced to nothing but shreds. They now hung off Sam's hips, the weight no longer there to keep them up.

Dean could tell from the way that Sam was lilting to the left, that there was some serious damage to his right leg. But what he had no idea. As his gaze drew upwards his tears fell stronger. Sam's ribs and hip bones jutted out angularly from his frame, the skin stretched tautly across them as his body used all its reserves to keep him alive.

Bruises littered every available piece of skin, fighting in some places with rips in Sam's flesh. Lacerations that Dean knew had been caused by the whipping Sam had received because of him the other day. Dean looked down Sam's arms assessing as he went his eyes finally reaching his brothers hands and his bruised knuckles, knuckles that were covered in Dean's blood.

Dean shook his head at that thought and returned his attention back to Sam's injuries, to Sam's distress. His brother's hair was plastered to his head, a combination of two weeks of not washing and yet more blood and sweat making it matted in places.

Finally Dean made it to Sam's face. Dried blood clung to the side of Sam's face from a cut that had clogged near his hair line. More blood had made tracks down from his nose and around his mouth the result Dean thought could be from a broken nose. He couldn't tell if Sam's face was also covered in bruises or if it was just that covered with grime.

It was as Dean reached Sam's eyes, looking for that recognition, that need for Dean to make this okay, that look that could always convince Dean to do anything, that spark that made Sam, Sam, that Dean realized just how deep the shit was that they were in. The blow from that one look more wounding, more hurtful, more devastating than any of Sam's punches.

Sam wasn't there. Yes, it was Sam's body, but the black, soulless eyes told Dean a lot. Sam's spirit was gone, staring back at Dean through eyes that radiated anger, rage, fury and a desire to kill was someone else altogether.

"You bastard Gordon. What the fuck have you done to him?"

"I can't take the credit for this Dean. I told you that someday he would change and that day has arrived. How does it feel to be so very wrong, Dean?"

"I'm not wrong Gordon, Sam's not changed he never will change. This is something that you have done, so I'll ask you yet again. What the fuck have you done to my brother?"

"You sadden me Dean. I thought that once you saw for real what Sam had become, seen him in all his glory you would see him for what he truly is. A freak of nature, a monstrosity, a miscreation but no you still have this unwavering faith, this sickly brotherly love. Sam's changed Dean and you have to start believing it."

"Sam has not changed, Gordon. This is all you. What have you done? Tortured him to break him? Brainwashed him? Drugged him? What? And for the record just what the hell would you know about brotherly love? If I remember correctly you didn't have any when you slaughtered your sister."

Dean could see Gordon tense at his words and expected some sort of repercussion from it, none came though and Gordon seemed to collect himself before talking once more.

"We've done nothing Dean. I saw the look in your eyes change when you caught sight of Sam's eyes. Those black pits that show no recognition only anger and hate. Demon's eyes."

"You're lying."

Gordon's patience had worn thin. This wasn't going according to plan either. Dean's refusal to believe that his brother had changed was grating his nerves. He had to do something to convince Dean otherwise. Turning to his friend he nodded. The friend letting Sam go instantly. Sam looked Gordon's way briefly before advancing on Dean, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, his mouth set in a determined line, his nostrils flaring.

Dean had started to panic the minute Gordon had stopped talking. He knew that Sam hadn't changed that Gordon had done something but he didn't know what. Sam's eyes, whilst black and inhumane looking, weren't demon eyes. The whites still remained, Sam some where still remained. As Sam advanced on him further he tried to break through what ever was holding his brother.

"Sam, Sam please. You don't want to do this; you don't need to do this. Fight Sam, please."

As Sam faltered slightly Gordon's voice rang out.

"Sam you know me, you know that I would never hurt you. Not like that demon in front of you has. He's the one that has taken everyone you love away from you, your mom, Jess, Jim, Caleb, your Dad and now Dean. He's the one that took them all.

"Gordon, you bastard, I am so going to hunt you down and kill you for this, I swear to God I will. Sam, don't you listen to him. Hear my voice Sam; please you have to fight this. Sam it's me, its Dean you have to try and fight, please."

Sam seemed to waver and falter once more at Dean's words. Stopping before him and blinking. Gordon noticed this and spoke again.

"Sam you know demon's lie, this one is lying to you too. Remember back, this demon killed Dean in front of you. He slit his throat, remember?"

As the lone tear fell down Sam's cheek, Dean knew that he had lost his brother to unknown hidden demons. He knew that no matter what he said, Sam was too far gone to understand them, to far gone to think clearly. He refused to give up though and as Sam's fists once more drilled into Dean's body he kept repeating words over and over, hoping that just one of them would break through.

"Sam, please, listen to my voice, you know it's me. Please you have to fight this."

Nothing it seemed was breaking Gordon's hold over Sam though and Dean could feel himself slowly fading once more. Guilt lanced through him at his failure to reach Sam, his failure to prevent this from happening. He caught Gordon grinning sadistically behind Sam and anger flared inside of him. He had to keep trying, he had to get through.

He raised his head and determinedly looked straight into those black pits that had once been Sam's expressive eyes. One word breathlessly whispered out.

"Sammy."

Time seemed to stand still for everyone in the room as Sam stopped a look of confusion on his face. As Dean desperately tried to break through even more, Gordon and his aide roughly pulled Sam from the room, leaving Dean all alone once more, all alone, but for the first time hopeful. Whatever had been done to him, Sam was still there.

**A.N. . . . . Hope it was okay, as always thanks for reading, Peanut x**


	5. Chapter 5

**What goes around comes around.**

**Summary. . . . . Dean's taken, but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten, why won't anybody talk to him? And what has happened to Sam? Dean whumpage, hurt and angst Sam to follow. Set after season 2, but no spoilers. Rated K+**

**Disclaimer. . . . Dear Santa, please as I have been a good girlie could I have. . . . . **

**A.N. . . . When I say that this chapter has been a pain in the ass to write, I'm not joking! Sorry about the longer than normal wait for an update, the whole chapter just wouldn't flow and for the first time this fic I've written a chapter that I'm not 100 happy with. I hope that it's all just a figment of my imagination.**

**A.N.2. . . Forgot to say, anything written in**_** italics**_** is Gordon's flashback POV.**

If Gordon had been angry earlier he was at this moment livid. Dean had somehow managed to guess Sam's identity and now it seemed that he had broke through to his brother also. He hadn't succeeded in totally breaking through but Sam's hesitation was enough for Gordon to know that there was a risk he would do if he left the younger brother in there. Grabbing Sam by his hair as his partner grabbed one of his arms, together they roughly dragged the compliant men from the room unwilling to have all there plans shot to pieces.

Pulling Sam back to the room he had been kept in since Dean's arrival they proceeded to maliciously beat the already crushed younger man, taking care to cause as much pain without serious injury occurring. Both men taking great pleasure from Sam's screams and also the knowledge that Dean could hear every one of them.

When it reached the point were they thought Sam would pass out they stopped. Gordon reached into his pocket and slipped something into Sam's mouth before closing it firmly. Looking up to his accomplice he spoke angrily.

"Keep telling him what I told you to. Make sure he starts to believe it once more."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to work on Dean. Give him a little insight to what has been happening while Sammy boy has been missing."

Standing up Gordon left the room, walking the short distance to where Dean was now being kept. He paused outside calming him self and gathered his thoughts.

"Gordon, you bastard. I know that you're out there. You better run and hide well, because when I get out of here I'm am so going to enjoy hunting you down, watching you beg before I shove the knife in and let you bleed out slowly."

Planting a smirk on his face Gordon entered the room. "You will have to get free first. Then figure a way to get Sam free. Oh and then you have to change him back somehow. You know back from the beast he has become."

"Sam's not changed Gordon, you know it and I know it. I don't know what you've done to him, put him through, given him, but it's you that has made him as he is."

"You still refuse to believe what your own eyes were telling you? You still refuse to believe that Sam would go bad? We may have nudged him along a little bit, but believe me Sam's dark side came out very easily."

" Fuck you! I don't believe you, Gordon. Sam would never change."

"You're beginning to irritate me Dean. You still won't believe what you saw? Well let me tell you what Sammy has been up to since he went missing shall I? Let me tell you how Sam changed and how easily he allowed it to happen."

Dean stayed quiet, just glaring at the sadistic hunter. He had a feeling that yet again he was not about to like what he was about to hear and for the second time he wondered if not being any the wiser would be the better option. Gordon made the decision for him when he began to talk.

"I might like to hunt alone, Dean but that doesn't mean to say that I don't have friends, supporters out there. There were people arranging my escape as soon as I landed in jail and the minute I was free I started hunting you Winchesters down. One of my guys had been stalking Bobby's, saw him leave suddenly one day, followed him and voila! What do you know? He led us straight to the prize. A day later and I was there."

"_Where are they?"_

"_Motel 7, the blue building, room number 14, been there since Bobby left late last night."_

"_Both of them?"_

"_Yeah, how do you want to do this? Take them both, or individually?"_

"_We need to prove to Dean that Sam will change, but I think we should make him sweat a bit first. We'll see if we can get them alone, if we can we grab demon boy first."_

_Simon watched as Gordon settled back in the passenger seat to wait. He had wondered what the older hunters fight was with the Winchesters; having been around the hunting world for most of his life he had always thought them to be decent and trustworthy, but Gordon's words about what Sam was to become had made him doubt everything he had ever heard before. Plus Gordon truly scared the crap out of him._

_They had been sat in the car for over four hours before the first signs of movement came from the room the Winchesters were staying in. The door opened, and almost as if God were shining down on them, Sam walked out alone and started walking off down the town's main street. Starting the car Simon began to follow, keeping well back to avoid detection, Sam's massive frame making tailing him all the more easier._

_They watched as he made his way into a grey granite building, the local library the sign told them. Simon pulled the car into the nearest spot before leaving Gordon and following Sam inside. He observed as Sam spoke to the elderly librarian before following her directions towards where the computers were. Pretending to be looking for a certain book, he hovered watching as Sam settled down and booted up before slinking his way back to Gordon._

"_Well?" Gordon asked as Simon climbed once more behind the wheel._

"_Looks like he'll be there for a while, he seems to be researching."_

"_Good, I've seen him when he gets started. We should be able to get quite close before he even realizes."_

"_What? You want to do this here? Now?"_

"_Yes, while Dean's not around lets go."_

"It was so easy Dean; Sam was so engrossed in what he was searching for he didn't even look up until it was too late. You really should have a word with him, he's getting sloppy. He ended up walking out with us in minutes."

"Sam would have fought you, tried to get away somehow, how did you get him to go quietly? What did you hold over his head?"

"Why, you of course. We told him that we already had you. We told him that we would kill you if he didn't come. Just as he is your biggest weakness, you are his Dean. I must admit I don't know why he's your weakness though, how the hell do you put up with his whining? He just wouldn't stop pleading. Pleading for you Dean, on and on about not hurting you, about letting you go, in the end when we got back to the car I just couldn't stand it any longer I just had to shut him up. It has always surprised me just how quickly people stop talking when the butt end of a gun smashes into their head."

"You sick bastard! You're dead Gordon."

"Will you let me finish my tale before you decide to try and kill me Dean? I have a feeling that you are going to love what happened to Sam next."

_Simon drove to the house that Gordon had bought for just this occasion. Gordon staying in the back with their subdued captive. For the whole of the journey Sam remained unconscious, not even rousing when he was unceremoniously dragged into his new home._

"_Tie him up, make sure that they are tight, and then toss him downstairs. Stay with him, if he wakes up phone me and let me know. I need to go get some supplies."_

_Gordon though was back way before Sam even began to stir. Not liking how slow Sam was taking he roughly smacked him across his face. Sam's sudden jolt and the resulting snapping open of his eyes, sending pain rushing to his head and waves of nausea to his stomach. Before Gordon could realize what was happening Sam's breakfast was coating the bottom of his jeans and his boots._

_Furiously he hauled Sam up and gesturing to Simon they proceeded to lift him and hang him from the hook that was attached to the ceiling, leaving him hanging there groggy, nauseous and in pain. Gordon went to leave, making it to the door before he looked at the mess Sam had made and a surge of anger ran through him. He turned back his fists raised, Sam body his release. By the time he had finished Sam was out cold, bruises mottled his now divested chest, his nose a broken bloody mess, his head wound dripping once more._

Dean couldn't speak his anger at hearing what his brother had been put through making it hard for him to think rationally, let alone put his thoughts into words. What made it worse for Dean was that he'd been pissed at Sam for some stupid prank he had played, so to get him back he was the one who had chosen the motel, the only one without wifi. When Sam had tried to get him to change he had point blank refused, Bobby's arrival stopping a minor argument from turning into a full scale battle.

What made it doubly worse was the fact that he'd gone out hustling after Bobby had left them, getting in late and more than a little worse for wear. When Sam had tried to wake him the next morning to go to do the damn research, Dean had just ignored his brother and rolled over, cutting off all further attempts at conversation. When Dean had finally woken up several hours later and noticed that Sam wasn't back he had immediately become worried. Quickly dressing he rushed from the room and dashed towards the library, only to find a booted up computer, Sam's notebook, but no Sam.

He shook out of his reverie, although he knew for sure that he wouldn't like the answers he would receive he needed to know what else Sam had been put through. He needed to know just what he would have to fix inside his brother's mind as well as his outside injuries, when they finally got out of here. Because they would get out of here, he would make sure of it.

"What else did you do Gordon?"

**A.N. . . . I really hope that it was okay for you. It was going to be a lot longer but I decided to cut the chapter in half, make you wait a bit longer to find out more of Sam's pain, sorry. Thanks again for reading, Peanut x**


	6. Chapter 6

**What goes around comes around.**

**Summary. . . . . Dean's taken, but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten, why won't anybody talk to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumpage, hurt and angst Sammy to follow. Set after season 2 so no spoilers. Rated K+**

**Disclaimer. . . . The letter has been sent, all's I need now is for Santa to think I'm worthy!**

**A.N. . . . . Well I said that I would try for another update by Sunday and here it is! Dedicated to all who wanted a longer last chapter, Oh and for the anon reviewers who I can't personally thank, hope it was worth waiting for?**

Determination now shone from Dean like a beacon, determination to now get both himself and Sam out of here safe. Firstly though he had to convince Gordon somehow, that he was subdued and distraught enough to be left un-cuffed. Distraught would be easy enough but with his anger bubbling just below the surface, Dean knew that the subdued bit would be harder to portray.

"What else did you do, Gordon? What else did you put Sam through? You had him for twelve days, what did you do?"

"When he finally woke up, he was in so much pain but just like you did for him, he started begging to see your sorry ass."

_Gordon was in the room when Sam next stirred, Simon sleeping upstairs. He watched as realization flittered on Sam's face as the pain flared from the earlier punishment and hit him full force. Sam blinked rapidly trying to get his bearings, looking fretfully around the room before finally settling on Gordon as he lounged on a chair, sipping a bottle of water._

"_Where's Dean? What have you done with him? Let me see him?"_

"_He's safely tucked away back at your motel, Sam. You really are that stupid, that gullible, you really thought that we had taken Dean. We're keeping an eye on him though, and he will be hurt if you don't cooperate. Now tell me Sam, just when is it that you are supposed to turn?" Gordon put his bottle down and slowly walked over to Sam as he asked the question._

"_I don't know what you mean."_

"_You know Sammy, go darkside, become a minister of evil, the devil army's leader?"_

"_I'm not going to turn."_

_It was all Sam could think of to say and although to him it was the truth he knew that Gordon wouldn't believe him. The resulting punch confirmed it, the force of which making Sam lose the precarious balance he had been keeping on his toes. His whole weight fell on his bound wrists, the bindings cutting viciously even further into his skin; blood began to drizzle down his arms._

"_Sammy, don't lie to me otherwise Dean will get hurt and I know you wouldn't want that."_

"_I'm not lying, I won't turn."_

_The punch this time to Sam's throat had him gasping for breath and retching at the same time. He struggled to calm himself down as he felt his airway tighten and constrict, bile getting caught and making breathing even harder to do. Tears leaked from his eyes as he fought to remove the blockage that wouldn't allow the desperately needed air through, the acid burning his throat. Finally he managed to swallow the vile substance back down and drag in the air his body gravely required._

_Gordon had walked back over to his chair whilst Sam had battled to get air. Retrieving the discarded bottle of water he turned back to the younger man and when Sam had started to calm down, removed a pill from his pocket and placed it in his opened mouth. He clamped his hands over Sam's nose and mouth forcing him to swallow instinctively._

_The older hunter watched as Sam's eyes held panic before the substance started to work and they began to glaze over. Removing his hands his gripped Sam's hair, pulling on it to bring his head up. He placed the bottle to Sam's lips and watched as Sam drank greedily, almost making himself sick once more before Gordon removed it._

"_What did you give me?" Sam managed to slur and rasp out._

"_Just a sedative, Sam. I need you to be calm, to sleep whilst I go and, anonymously of course, let Dean know where to find you. I'll lead him to think that you have been taken by one of those demons you released. Knowing your brother he'll rush to your rescue and straight into a trap. You see there's not just one demon where he's going but three. You really should have told me the truth Sam. Because you didn't poor Dean is going to pay with his life, with your name the one that signed his death warrant."_

"He cried you know after I told him that, cried like a baby Dean. This leader, this powerful one, this demonic savior cried like a child at the thought of you being killed."

Dean couldn't help it. As his own tears fell at the thought of how distraught Sam must have felt, his anger boiled over and he shot from the chair catching Gordon off guard and sending them both crashing back to the floor. Landing heavily on the older man, forcing all the wind out of him, Dean took advantage and bringing his head back butted Gordon.

"You're going to die for this Gordon, your going to die." Dean managed to ground out before Simon's foot connecting with his face had the darkness rushing towards him once again.

"Fuck! Get him the hell off me." Gordon demanded of his younger friend, whilst spitting blood out of his mouth where it had collected from the cut to his lip. "Cuff him back to the bed, make sure he's secure."

Gordon watched as Simon cuffed Dean once more to the bed, his broken wrist now swelled that much the cuff could hardly fit around it. He couldn't believe just how much his plan was collapsing around him. This was supposed to have been easy, was supposed to have gone so smoothly, drug and beat Sam into turning and then sitting back and watching Dean get destroyed after being forced to kill his beloved brother, simple, kill two birds with one stone.

But Dean's stubbornness, his refusal to believe anything bad about Sam was something Gordon hadn't counted on. Neither was Sam's resilience. The sedative got more and more harder to give to Sam as his damaged throat got tighter and tighter and whilst it was fine to begin with, it didn't give Gordon the results he so desperately needed, resorting him into trying stronger more unpredictable means.

_For four days Gordon had tried to beat, brainwash and drug Sam into allowing his darkside to shine through, but apart from an increase in Sam's anger and an exhaustive need to know that Dean was okay, that Dean was alive the youngest Winchester had refused to even consider Gordon's request._

_By day five he'd had enough and once again leaving a sedated Sam with Simon, Gordon had gone hunting. It wasn't hard to track Dean down and even easier to get close enough to knock the oldest Winchester out. Five days without word on Sam, and his dread that Sam had been possessed again had weakened the mans instincts._

_Bringing him back to the house he began his preparations. It really was amazing just what you could do with fake blood, some cheap Halloween tricks and face paints. Within minutes he had transformed Dean from concerned sibling, into bruised, battered, bloodied, but most of all dead brother. He quickly took a few Polaroid's, close up it wouldn't hold up, but to Sam's beaten and drugged mind the pictures should work. He cleaned Dean back up whilst Simon removed Sam from the cellar before placing him into his brother's former prison._

_Waiting for Sam to wake, Gordon thought over the next stage of his plan, this time it couldn't go wrong. He removed a tiny piece of paper from his pocket and looked at it closely, amazed that such evil could come from something so small._

_Soft moans and groans finally announced Sam's return to consciousness. Gordon observed as Sam unused to being free from restraints rolled from his back to his side. He watched as Sam slowly opened his eyes confusion written all over his face. _

_Sam's mouth opened and closed, words trying to make themselves known, questions needing answers. But all that came out to Gordon's ears were rasps and he laughed as pain wracked through the younger hunter. He could almost guess the unasked questions running through Sam's mind though. "Where was he? Why wasn't he restrained? Had Dean finally found him? Where was dean?" _

_Gordon slowly and carefully moved towards Sam, not taking any chances, even though Sam was badly beaten he knew that given the chance he would fight him. Aiming a kick at Sam's abdomen, once he was in range, immobilized the younger man as spasms of pain surged throughout his body. Gordon pried opened Sam's mouth and placed the square of paper inside. _

_He waited for the drug to take hold, knowing that it would be fast. He took the Polaroids out of his other pocket and forced Sam's pain filled, angry eyes to look at the images. Within seconds of Sam seeing Dean's lifeless body on the photo, his pain was forgotten, the anger taking full control. The rage grew and devoured him; it coursed and raced through every vein, every nerve, and every bone in his body. It emanated from him with a heat that had Gordon stepping back._

_When Sam looked back up after finishing looking through the stills, even Gordon tough as he was scared at the look that now radiated from his eyes. Pure and unadulterated hate and rage. Sam's pupils had blown so much, that the color that had once made them so expressive was all but gone._

_Shaking himself back from his trance Gordon worked quickly. Keeping a safe distance away he began to condition Sam. The benefits of the drug making the younger mans mind all the more pliable, all the more open to the words pouring from Gordon's mouth._

**A.N. . . . . Well how was it? Thanks as always for reading, will try to update again soon, Peanut x**


	7. Chapter 7

**What goes around comes around.**

**Summary. . . . . Dean's taken, but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten, why won't anybody talk to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumpage, hurt and angst Sam to follow, Set after season 2 but no spoilers. Rated K+**

**Disclaimer. . . . Still only a pawn playing in Kripkieland. **

**A.N. . . . . Still blown away by the response to this fic, thanks again for all the reviews and alerts but mostly for taking time out to read. Oh and there's still back story which once again is written in **_**italics**_** Anyway enough for now, sit back and enjoy chapter 7.**

Gordon broke free from his reverie as Dean shifted restlessly on the bed, soft groans coming from him as he fought to regain consciousness. Gordon pulled the chair closer to the bed as Dean's eyes started to flutter open. If looks could kill he knew that he would be dead by now from the livid and fiery rage that sprang from the younger man's eyes. He was almost happy when they finally left his face and began to stare at the ceiling.

Both men sat in silence until Dean broke it, unable to hold back his need to know what else Gordon had done to his brother.

"I don't think that you've told me the worst yet, have you? What else did you do?" The words were so whispered Gordon almost missed them.

"We were easy on him to begin with, you'll be happy to know Dean. Just beat him with punches and words, that's all. He started to convert after day five getting worse every day, but didn't truly until five days after you arrived."

_It really was amazing just how pliable and receptive Sam's mind became after a few doses of the drug. To begin with he had believed Dean to be dead, but he still saw Gordon as the enemy. After a couple of doses though Sam had completely changed, he forgot everything that had happened between them before and now began to believe that Gordon was the good guy. He forgot that Gordon had promised to kill him and now saw him as an ally, a friend. He forgot that Gordon was the one who had sent Dean to his death and now truly believed that only the older hunter could lead him to his brother's killer._

_Five days after Dean had been captured Gordon decided that Sam was compliant enough to try to pass the hardest part yet. To see if he could convince Sam that Dean was in fact the demon that had killed his brother._

_Walking into Sam's spare room he sneered at the pitiful sight before him. Clad only in his filth riddled jeans, Sam sat huddled in the corner shaking uncontrollably, rocking himself, scratching at his arms, caught in the midst of a come down._

_Gordon stayed in the doorway not quite willing to speak, Sam's come downs had been so far unpredictable at best. More often than not he was submissive, confused and scared, but occasionally he would be violent, uncontrollable and angry. Gordon found himself divided between which one he hoped it would be today, part of him wanting Sam to be sad so that he would be easier to work with, but oh how he did enjoy it when Sam wanted to fight, relishing battering the weakened younger man into submission._

"_Sam?" He finally spoke up._

_As Sam's head rose Gordon could tell that he was on one of his sad days and would be easier to work with._

"_Sam, stand up and come with me."_

_Sam looked at Gordon questioningly but rose to his feet slowly, unsteadily. Another punch to Sam's throat not long after the first one had closed the passage way so much Sam could barely drag air through it. Speaking was a no-no, a benefit that Gordon knew would come in handy and was about to take full advantage off._

_As Sam sluggishly made his way towards the door where Gordon still stood, the older hunter spoke to him once more. _

"_Sam we caught it! We caught the thing that killed Dean."_

_Sam looked up at Gordon once more, his glassy eyes shining even more with unshed tears and pleading with hope._

"_Do you want me to take you to him, Sam?" Sam nodded before Gordon carried on. "You have to take your medicine first though Sam, okay?"_

_Sam held out his hand practically begging for the small slip of paper and eagerly placed it in his mouth, his need to see his brother's killer so strong. Gordon waited for the drug to work before leading Sam from the room. As they reached the top of the stairs that led to the cellar he stopped and turned to the younger man._

"_Okay Sam, I will let you see him but you have to promise not to kill him."_

_He could almost feel Sam's anger trying to break free as he spoke those words and he knew he would have to try and convince Sam to hold back. Thinking fast he spoke again._

"_Sam, Bobby's missing and we don't know where he is. We think that this demon has him, so that is why you cannot kill him. Once we have Bobby back you can do what ever you want but until then do not kill him. Do you understand me Sam?"_

_The anger that had been present in Sam's eyes before Gordon's words now radiated from them. First Dean and now Bobby, this demon would die, but Gordon was right he couldn't risk Bobby's life by wanting to get revenge so desperately. He would have to wait. He nodded, acquiescing that he understood._

_Gordon had found it easy to lead Sam down the stairs after their little one sided chat, he should have thought of it sooner using Bobby's fate like that. They stopped outside the door to Dean's room, Gordon knowing that it was now or never, that the minute the door was opened his plan's could all go up in flames, he knew that if Sam recognized Dean then no amount of drugs or beatings would make a difference, the plan would be truly lost._

_He needn't have worried, as the door swung open Sam had stood there quietly just in side the door way, almost trembling in anger and anticipation of what was to come. He didn't recognize Dean's voice demanding to know who was there, demanding to know who was in the room, demanding to know where Sam was and what had happened to him, threatening to kill Gordon. He didn't even recognize Dean's pain filled grunts either as Simon went to work on his body, or his anguished cry of pain as his ribs broke. Sam was oblivious to everything, all that mattered to him was that Dean's killer was in this room._

_At Gordon's nod he strode forward and rained blow after blow on Dean's killer, savoring each and every punch. He could feel bones breaking as he jabbed the demons face, could feel the air rush out of the creature as he struck it's stomach, could feel the ribs move all the more as he punched the demons side and he smiled. His drug filled, brainwashed mind unable to register that he was hurting the only person left that he truly loved._

_He smirked at the demons pathetic form as Gordon nodded once more, his signal to stop. He quivered with happiness at the sight of his own blood covered knuckles, happiness that he had been able to start exacting revenge for Dean's death. Unable to see that the blood belonged to the person he was exacting it for._

Gordon laughed maliciously at the memories; he had kept the strength of the drug a secret allowing Dean to fill in the blanks himself. He had watched the younger man all the time he was talking to him pleasuring in the different emotions that flittered across his features. Rage, fear, anger, frustration, hopelessness, failure.

"You see Dean, Sam really didn't take much persuading to allow his evil side through. A beating here and there and a few drugs and he was begging for it to be unleashed, begging to hurt you."

"You really are a twisted fuck, aren't you? Sam's not changed and I don't care what you, other hunters or the god damned yellow eyed demon think and say, he never will. The only way that you could get him to hurt me was through drugs and punches. You're sick Gordon. You want to believe, need to believe that everyone that is slightly different is evil; does it make your decision to kill your sister, to not even try to help her, easier if you feel this way? You know what I'd rather have a chosen child beside me, watching me back, over you any day. There's only one evil thing in this house Gordon and that is you!"

"Sam will change, has changed, Dean. He will lead the demons armies against us and he will kill humans. Can you live with yourself? Can you live with that knowledge?"

Dean raised his head as far as he could determined to hold the sadistic hunters gaze, ignoring the pain that it caused as he pulled on his broken wrist.

"Gordon, listen and listen good because I'm sick and tired of repeating myself. Sam would rather die first than hurt anybody, for the life of me I can't understand why but that even includes you. He. Will. Never. Change!" Dean ground out every word, emphasizing everyone. "Start figuring out a good place to hide, Gordo, because I will get out of here! I will get through to Sam! And I will kill you! You see you made two glaring mistakes. 1, you messed with my little brother and I told you once before nobody messes with Sam and 2, you chose the wrong brother to be scared off!"

Gordon didn't answer but Dean could tell that he had rattled him. He watched as the older man pushed the chair back away from the bed and stood up. He watched, his gaze never once faltering, as Gordon went to leave the room.

As Gordon reached the door he turned, unnerved to find Dean still scrutinizing him. He needed to get back some control, needed to get the last word in.

"You really think that you will get free? That I will allow you to get to Sam? That I won't kill him in front of you first? That if you did succeed I would allow Sam to leave here without a back up plan? That there's a big rescue party coming for you, just around the corner? There's nobody coming for you and Sam, Dean. Nobody! And frankly I've grown tired of this masquerade now, enjoy your night Dean, it will be your last. Tomorrow I think we will allow Sam to sit his final exam. Tomorrow your brother will be sent to kill you."

Gordon laughed viciously as his words cut into Dean, he watched as the young hunter's bravado faltered giving him the result he had craved for, the result he needed.

**A.N. . . . . . . . Shorter than usual I know sorry, but I'm doing overtime after tomorrow so didn't know when I would be able to post again. I hope that it was still enjoyable though, Peanut x**


	8. Chapter 8

**What goes around comes around.**

**Summary. . . . Dean's taken, but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten, why won't anybody talk to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumpage, hurt and angst Sam to follow. Set after season 2 but no spoilers. Rated K+**

**Disclaimer. . . . All owned by Kripkie.**

**A.N. . . . As always happy reading.**

Ever since he had been dragged back into his room by Gordon and Simon, Sam had willed his brain to work properly. He was sure that he had heard Dean's voice, but hadn't he been doing so ever since he had found out that his brother had died? Why did it feel so different this time? Dean was dead, Gordon had said so. He had gotten through the beating that had followed by thinking about that one word he had heard, that one word that, even though he now hated being called it, would always bring him comfort.

He sat huddled in the corner of the room, his knees drawn up to his chest, shaking from a combination of pain, fear, withdrawal and cold, saying that one word over and over again. His head started to throb as he thought over all the different scenarios. Had Dean died? Had Gordon lied? Why would Gordon lie? If Dean were safe, why hadn't he come to save him? Where was he himself being kept? How did he get here? What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he remember things? Why couldn't he think straight? Was Dean safe?

The pain just kept intensifying, and as a result the answers he wanted kept getting harder and harder to find. He started to bang his head against the wall trying to knock his brain into gear. He knew something was wrong with this picture, but he couldn't fit the pieces together and come up with what it was. He willed his mind to tell him what he needed to know. The words coming from his mouth changed and he sat there now saying three phases over and over.

"Dean's alive. Sammy. What's wrong?"

He tried to concentrate on just one question, tried to break through the fuzz that clouded his memories. Gordon, why shouldn't he trust Gordon? He pushed his mind even harder, knowing somehow that if he could get that one answer everything else would fall into place.

Words began to make them selves known as the drug began to recede from within his system. Sister, vampires, wounded, trap, explosion, police, but he didn't know what they meant. He grabbed his hair and banged a little harder, desperate now to place all the clues together. Sister, vampires, wounded, trap, explosion, police, but now something else was coming through. . . . . . . . . . . . . Funky town!

Funky town!

Funky town! That was it. The code word he and Dean had. Gordon and a trap. Gordon had dean to trap Sam. Gordon could not be trusted. Gordon was bad news. Gordon was a liar. So that meant he could be lying about Dean. Gordon was lying about Dean. Sam now truly believed it.

Dean was alive. Dean was here. Dean was hurt. Dean was hurt by him.

He was consumed with guilt as he received yet more images, flashbacks of what he had done. He had hurt his own brother. Dean had been begging him not to, begging him to stop, but he had hurt him anyway. Tears began to flow freely down his face, how could he have done that? Why had he done that? There could be only one reason, Gordon! Gordon had done something to him, made him think Dean was dead, made him think that thing in the other room was Dean's killer, made him hurt the only person left in his life that truly mattered.

Gordon would have to pay.

Gordon would have to pay severely!

Dean's heart felt as though it had stopped as Gordon's last words had filtered into his mind. He had managed to keep up his act of bravado, of strength while the callous man was in the room, but the minute the door shut it came crashing down, his head falling back onto the bed.

What the hell? What could he do now? He knew one thing; he could not allow tomorrow to happen, no way. He didn't care about dying, but he did care about Sam, about his death being by Sam's hands. He could imagine the guilt Sam would feel and he was unwilling to have his brother feel that.

He knew that Gordon, before he killed Sam also, would tell Sam everything that he had done culminating in Dean's death and that news would crush his younger brother, so, no, tomorrow things would have to go differently.

All he had to do was get free from the cuffs, exit the room without being seen, find Sam, make sure Sam was okay, get Sam to safety, ring Bobby to help him fix Sam, kill Simon and restrain Gordon, cause Gordon would die slowly and painfully with Dean loving every second of his pain. Simple!

He thought about the first problem, getting out of the cuffs. He didn't have time anymore to work at breaking one of the spindles free, he would have to do it the hard way instead. He would have to try and pull the cuff off his swollen and broken wrist.

He turned his head and tried to get a better look at the problem, not liking the idea even more when he finally did manage to glimpse the limb. He could see that if he could get the steal band over the swollen part of his wrist he would have no problem pulling it off his hand, the ratchets only just being able to lock in place due to the swollenness of his arm. But it was already starting to cut into his skin as the swelling grew.

He wished he had something to bite on, wished he had that bottle of "medicinal" whiskey he kept in the Impala, knowing that the pain would be unbearable. He slowly grabbed on to the cuff with his good hand and began to pull.

The pain was immediate and excruciating, causing him to heave as his body started to hyperventilate. Black spots began to dance before his eyes, his body wanting desperately to black out once more. He refused to stop, refused his bodies eagerness to give in and continued to pull knowing that to stop would result in a pain a lot worse.

He managed to move it even further down his swollen wrist, his hands shaking now from the effort to control the pain. Sweat beading on his forehead. Millimeter by millimeter he pulled the steel bangle, willing it to get over the biggest part of his damaged limb so that the pain would finally stop, knowing that every thing after would be so much easier. Just at the point when he thought he could take no more, it slipped over the last of the swelling and onto his smaller hand.

Dean breathed deeply trying to slow down his racing heart. He couldn't help the tears that fell from his eyes. Exhausted from all the effort all he wanted to do was sleep, but knew he couldn't. He had to find Sam. He had to save Sam.

Moving to the edge of the bed he attempted to sit up, not surprised when the room spun alarmingly. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing through the nausea that rose. After a few minutes he felt able enough to move, making his way to the door his hunter's instincts naturally kicking back in, his ears alert for even the slightest sound, his head going over the rest of his plan. The last part the one he was going to savor the most.

Bobby was beside himself with worry. Since he had left Sam and Dean's motel room he had heard nothing from the two Winchester's. At first he had put it down to them being on the hunt he had told them about, but when the days turned into a week and a week into two Bobby had began to get alarmed.

He had checked around, asked other trusted hunters to check out the job the brothers were supposed to be on, asked them to discretely make sure the boys were okay. The news that filtered back to him didn't help to ease those worries at all. The job was still waiting to be attended to. The Winchester's were nowhere to be seen.

From that moment on nothing else mattered to Bobby. Something was wrong. Pulling in a hell of a lot of favors, he had asked the same hunters to keep looking for any signs of the Winchesters. If jobs could be left he asked that they be so, that they concentrated their efforts on finding clues as to what happened and to their where abouts.

Bobby had decided to head back to the original motel and start his searching there, to see if they had even left. He was hoping that all this could be put down to them just being ill, but why wouldn't they answer their phones? No something was wrong.

He wasn't all that surprised then when he eventually arrived to find all their belongings had been handed over to the police, a missing person report also filed, but as no one knew who the brothers really were not too much effort had been put into looking for them. According to the motels manager, one brother had gone fourteen days ago, the second had been frantic searching for him every day until he to had disappeared, just over a week ago.

A quick search of the small town by Bobby had found the Impala, doors locked, interior littered with empty coffee cups, parked behind the local library. The phone calls had become more serious then, more panicked. Dean would never leave the Impala. It was now a full blown search for the two brothers and Bobby could only pray that they found them in time.

It didn't take long for the calls to start coming back in, mumblings in the hunter world coming back to Bobby's ear's that Gordon had escaped, that Gordon had plans and those plans included revenge on Dean and the killing of Sam.

Bobby was furious. He swore that he would hurt Sam himself if he stood in the way of Gordon's demise this time. The hunter had crossed the line too far now to come back, this time Gordon would have to die if the Winchester's wanted to live.

He called Joshua, knowing the younger hunters expertise with computers would come in handy. He knew it was a long shot but he asked him to try and track the boys phones, hoping against hope that Gordon had forgotten to switch them off. If they were off, Bobby asked Josh to find out where they were last registered. He'd take even that slim hope and work with it.

While he waited he arranged for the brothers belongings to be released to him and for the Impala to be towed back to his yard. The phone rang within the hour, Josh informing Bobby that the last known location of Dean's phone was a town a couple of hours away from where Bobby was now. He also checked further and found that there was a house registered near there in an alias Gordon was known to use.

Within minutes Bobby was on his way, with Joshua's reassurance that he would meet him there.

**A.N. . . . . I really hope that this didn't turn out as bad as I think it did. I'm not happy with the Bobby installment at all, is it just me or does that bit seem rushed?**

**Oh well, it's posted now. Hope you enjoyed it, Peanut x**


	9. Chapter 9

**What goes around comes around.**

**Summary. . . . . Dean's taken but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten why won't any body talk to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumpage, hurt and angst Sam to follow. Set after season 2 but no spoilers. Rated K+**

**Disclaimer. . . . I own no part of supernatural, be it Dean, Sam or Bobby. I'm just playing. All mistakes are my own.**

**A.N. . . . . Just have to give a quick shout out to two special people.**

**1Pagan3, who gave me the idea for hurting Gordon. If you have chance check out her fic The Long Way Home, it's awesome!**

**And Darksupernatural for being my sounding board when I didn't think things would go well. She has a fic due out that if the preview I have been shown is anything to go by** **will be fantastic!**

**Thanks guys and I hope you enjoy this longer than usual chapter 9.**

True to his word Joshua had arrived shortly after Bobby, in the town that Gordon's alias had bought the house. Bobby watched as the younger hunter climbed out of his truck and made his way over. The ex army man always seemed to Bobby to have grown every time he saw him. Standing at only five foot seven, what he lacked in height he made up for in muscle, his arms forced to bend at the sides his chest was so big, he always reminded Bobby of a bulldog.

Bobby knew though that Joshua wasn't someone to mess with, he might be small but he was mean, ruthless and extremely skilled. If you made Joshua's hit list then you better run and pray he didn't find you because if he homed in on you he refused to let go. Typical as usual he was grumpy when he eventually sat down next to Bobby.

"What the hell have those two gotten them selves into now? What the hell was Johnny teaching them all these years?"

"You know those two, if there's trouble to be found, they'll find it. How far away is the house?"

"I'm fine thanks, Bobby, nice of you to ask seeing as though it's been nearly a year and all."

"Awww I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings by not asking? How are you Josh? Things going well for you? Cause I have to tell you I've had a week of hell and it aint over yet so if you could leave the pleasantries until the boys are safe I would appreciate it."

"Still got that vicious temper and that wicked sense of humor then, I see. No wonder John stayed away so long." Joshua had to move quickly as Bobby threw a punch his way. "Okay, okay calm down Grizzly Adams. It's about half an hour away. Judging from the maps I scoured, we'll have to park about half a mile away and walk in. Let's hope that Gordon hasn't rigged the place. Do you know if he has any friends with him?"

"You know Gordon; he normally likes to work alone. Lets just be prepared incase he has. Come on let's go rescue a couple of Winchester's."

Bobby pulled his truck out of its space and headed off into the night. He tried not to think about it, but he couldn't help but wonder what state the brother's were in, could only hope that they were at least alive. He followed Joshua's directions and was soon pulling off to the side of the road. Both men got out and headed for Bobby's secret cache of weapons.

"The house is up the hill that way." Josh pointed with his finger in the direction they were about to go. "What are we taking, just guns and knives?"

"Yeah I think we'll be safe with just them. I can't really see Gordon having anything supernatural stashed up there. Grab the first aid kit as well; I have a feeling that we're going to need it."

After loading up both men set off up the hill, taking their time and treading carefully, taking every precaution they would do if they were on a normal hunt. Because of their cautiousness it took them longer than they would have liked to reach the house.

Staying in the shadows of the woods that surrounded the property, they sat just watching for any movement that would suggest that Gordon was not alone, that he had somebody with him guarding the outside. No movement of any kind though could be seen, so slowly they moved so that they could approach the house from the side, from where Josh would take the front, Bobby the back.

"Be careful." Bobby whispered as they were ready to go. "You know those boys will be trying to escape if they can, so make sure it's not them before you strike."

Josh nodded and headed for the front as Bobby stood up and went around to the back, spotting Gordon's distinctive red car parked there as he turned the corner. Creeping up to the back door he tried the handle, not surprised to find it locked. Taking out his tools he made quick work of the lock, before stepping inside.

He stopped just inside the door, his eyes checking out the room as his ears listened intently for any sound. Feeling that it was safe to continue on he headed through the kitchen to the hallway, three closed doors leading off it. Spotting Joshua at the other end, he motioned that they should check the rooms out together rather than alone, deciding to check the one nearest Bobby first.

Bobby went to open the door, his hand about to touch the handle when it turned suddenly opening from the inside. Both Joshua and Bobby quickly moved to the side and waited. The door tentatively opened and a bloodied, bruised, broken and boxer clad Dean Winchester timidly stepped out, almost giving the game away when he was pulled into a gripping hug by a tearful Bobby. The older hunter only just remembering before Dean started to cuss and yell to let him know who had hold of him.

"Dean, its Bobby. You're safe. Are you okay?" He whispered.

Dean emotionally and physically drained couldn't help it, quickly latching on even tighter to the man he now considered more father figure than friend. He placed his head on Bobby's shoulder and broke down completely.

"Hey son, it's okay, it's alright." Bobby kept up whispering the reassurances as he gently rubbed Dean's bare back.

Joshua standing off to the side felt the need to speak up, clearing his throat to draw the men's attention he voiced his concerns. "Guy's we need to move, we need to find Sam and that bastard Gordon. Dean I get that you're upset, but I need you to just suck it up for a bit longer. Was Gordon alone?" He asked quietly.

Dean moved reluctantly away from Bobby. Wiping his eyes he whispered his answer to Joshua's question. "No, he has someone called Simon with him. I think he's a hunter; he's a nasty piece of work but no where near as bad as Gordon. I think they're both upstairs now."

"Where's Sam, Dean? Do you know?" Bobby asked, his voice still choked slightly with emotion.

"I think he's in one of the room's on this level. I could hear him. . . . . I could hear them the other day when they. . . . . . When they. . . . . . Fuck! Bobby they whipped the crap out of him. He's in bad shape. Really bad shape. They wouldn't let me see him for the first week. God Bobby, you should see him. How can any body do that to another human? They drugged him, brainwashed him and beat the shit out of him. I don't know how much of Sam there is left."

"Hey, hey! We can talk about this later on, right now we need to find Sam and get you both out of here. We. . . . . "

Dean cut off the rest of Bobby's words. "You've got to be kidding me! I'm not going anywhere until that bastard is dead."

Bobby went to protest but Josh cut him off this time. "Good to see the real Dean Winchester back with us. We'll follow your lead on this Dean, but Bobby's right we need to find Sam and at least get him out of here. Then we deal with Gordon and this other guy."

Dean stood unmoving; he looked into both men's eyes, his own eyes blazing with anger. "Do not kill Gordon! He's mine."

Both older hunters looked back at Dean, the look in his eyes spoke volumes, a look that said he would not back down on this. Both men nodded their agreement; they would leave Gordon for Dean.

The three of them moved off down the hall. Joshua signaled that he would check upstairs leaving the other two rooms downstairs to Dean and Bobby. The first they found to be empty. Dean could feel his heart rate increase as they approached the final door, finding it increasing all the more as he pushed the door open.

The two men struggled to get their eyes to adjust to the complete blackness in the room, both unable to tell if Sam was there or not. Dean tried not to blink willing his eyes to see clearer, his heart banging against his chest. It was his hearing that picked up something first though, as Gordon's throaty, booming laughter pulsated from inside the doorway, closely followed by his voice.

"Did you really think that I wouldn't have any sort of protection Bobby? That there wouldn't be night cameras around the place? I saw you the minute you left the tree line. It gave me just enough time to get down here and protect my life insurance."

A light being switched on had Dean and Bobby shielding their eyes from the harshness. When they finally got used to the light once more, they were disappointed to see that Gordon was not alone in the room. Sam was there too, a knife held to his throat.

Bobby, at getting his first look at the youngest Winchester, could now understand just why Dean had broke down so. He really did look a mess. There wasn't a part of him that didn't seem injured to Bobby. From head to toe he was covered in bruises, cuts and whip marks. He cringed to think of the damage Sam had inside if the outside was anything to go by. He took in the wild eyes and remembered Dean's words about Sam being drugged. God this was a mess, this wasn't something that they could fix overnight. Gordon's voice cut into his thoughts.

"I said put the gun down Bobby. Do it now otherwise the knife might just accidentally slip and we wouldn't want that now would we?"

Not wanting to take any chances, Bobby placed his gun on the ground.

"Now, kick it over to me."

Again Bobby did as he was told, soon finding his own gun pointing at himself and Dean.

"I told you Dean that I wouldn't let you get out of here with Sam alive. I told you that I would have a back up plan, that I would kill him. But I've changed my mind; I think that I still want to make him suffer all the more. I think I'll kill you, Dean. And have Sammy here pull the trigger."

"No!" Both brothers' spoke the same word at the same time. Dean's shouted version drowning out Sam's whisper.

"Don't do this Gordon." Dean warned.

Gordon's taunting laugh the only response he got.

"Gordon I swear to God."

"You'll what Dean? Haunt me? I look forward to it; now say your last goodbyes to Bobby and poor little Sammy here."

Gordon turned to Sam, still keeping the gun trained on the two hunters; he lowered the knife slightly not realizing that Sam had been listening.

"Sam, it's time. It's time for you to kill the demon that killed Dean. Do you want to do that?"

"No." It was only a whisper but it echoed through out the room like it had been shouted.

Gordon's eyes flew wide open. What the hell was going on? Sam should have been completely compliant, submissive, controlled, broken, what the hell had gone wrong?

"Looks like your plans have failed again Gordon." Dean gloated, not willing to move yet as the knife was still too close to Sam's neck.

"Kill the demon, Sam!" Gordon ground out.

"No!" Sam whispered once more. Turning his face up towards Gordon's, he locked his rage filled eyes with his captor. In a raspy, haunting voice he spoke. "I don't trust you. I don't like you, you lied. Dean's alive and you made me hurt him. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? How much that hurt more than any of the beatings you gave me? Why don't I show you! I might not have the visions any more, but I've found something else that I can do. Let me show you how hurt I feel. Let me show you how hurt Dean felt. Let me show you how your sister felt!"

Sam reached up with a speed that caught all three men unawares and placed his hands on Gordon's temples. The reaction was instantaneous as all of Sam's hurt, all of Dean's pain, all of his sisters anguish came rushing into Gordon's brain.

He felt every punch and kick that had hurt Sam. Every single whip lash. The anger and frustration of the drugs. He felt Sam's grief at finding out Dean was dead, his anguish at finding out that he was alive but hurt, his pain at the knowledge that Sam had been the one to hurt his brother.

He felt Dean's terror when he found Sam missing. He felt Dean's fears and worries for his little brother. He felt the breaking of Dean's wrist, his ribs and his nose. The beatings he had taken whilst hanging from the hook. His pain at seeing how damaged Sam was.

But worst of all was when he felt that little part of his sister that was still inside, still wishing to somehow be released from the vampire when he killed her. Felt her sorrow at seeing how callous and cold he had become.

No marks were left but Gordon roared from the excruciating pain, only stopping when Sam's body could no longer hold the connection, both men slumping unconscious to the floor. Dean rushed to Sam's side, checking his pulse as Bobby checked Gordon's. Both men looked up after finding steady heart beats in both the downed men. Bobby turned to Dean and broke the silence.

"What the hell just happened?"

**A.N. . . . . Oh God! I really hope that was okay for you, as I'm really pleased with it. Oh and yes I know I said Wednesday as update day but I had time tonight so I typed and I typed and I finished. More Gordon bashing to come. Thanks as always for reading, Peanut x**


	10. Chapter 10

**What goes around comes around.**

**Summary. . . . . Dean's taken, but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten, why won't anybody talk to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumpage, hurt and angst Sam to follow. Set after season 2, but no spoilers. Rated K+**

**Disclaimer. . . . Not mine and have resigned myself to never having ownership. The mistakes though, there mine!**

**A.N. . . . . Thanks to you all out there in fanficland! I love you all, you guy's rock! **

"What the hell happened?"

Dean could only stare, his mouth opening and closing, words coming out but refusing to make sentences. "He. . . .I. . . . Maybe. . . . Sam. . . ."

"Did you know he could do that?"

'What? No! I don't even think that Sam knows he can do that. As far as we could tell everything disappeared after yellow eyes died, the visions, the telekinesis, all went. This is new. Whatever Gordon has been pumping into Sam, the beatings, him thinking that I was dead; Sam must have tapped into something. Some of those powers that Ava girl told him about."

"Did you see Gordon's face Dean? Hear his screams? Whatever Sam did, he sure made Gordon hurt. That wasn't just pain that was remorse, grief, torment, terror even."

"Good!"

Bobby couldn't argue with that statement after seeing how bad both brothers were looking. Joshua's thunderous footsteps rushing from upstairs, stopped him from doing so also, both of them turning from Sam to look at Josh as he rushed through the door, the subject forgotten for now.

"Dean, Bobby? You guy's okay? What the hell was all that yelling?"

Not knowing just how Josh would take to Sam's new found ability both men stayed quiet about it, choosing instead to reassure him that they were okay.

"Did you find that Simon guy?" Dean eventually asked.

"Yeah he was upstairs sleeping. I was just about to take pounce when all hell broke loose down here. Bastard nearly knifed me. He's tied and out for the count now though. Was gonna just kill him, but I figured you might want a go at him first." After Dean nodded, Josh spoke again. "Is Sam okay?"

Dean looked over his brother briefly, before answering honestly, tears springing to his eyes. "I don't know. I really don't know Josh. The outside wounds look bad enough, but you know Sam, it's what he carries around in that freaky head of his, which will hurt him more."

Bobby noting the exhaustion and uncertainty on Dean's face decided to take charge. "Josh, why don't you bring that piece of scum down here, put him in here with Gordon. We'll make sure he's secure; when you get back you'll have to help me get Sam upstairs. I take it there's bed's up there?" Josh nodded. "Okay, we might as well stay here until Sam's more coherent and Dean you need to rest too."

"No! I need to take care of Sam."

Bobby, knowing stubborn Dean could get when it came to an injured Sam, backed down. "Okay, we'll take care of Sam, and then check how bad you are, and then you rest."

Dean nodded Gordon's way. "What about him?"

Both Bobby and Josh knew exactly what the question meant, Josh answered it. "We said we would let you deal with him that still stands, he won't be touched, I promise he'll still be here after you have rested. Hell Dean, you'll probably enjoy it more then."

snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn

It wasn't long before Josh and Bobby were wrestling a deceptively heavier than he looked Sam up the stairs, even with all the lost weight they found it hard going, glad when they eventually reached the room with the beds and were able to deposit the still unconscious man on one of them. Josh left Dean and Bobby to attend to Sam and returned downstairs to keep watch on Gordon and Simon.

"Where do we start, Bobby?"

Bobby could understand Dean's hesitation; it was hard to choose which part of Sam looked the worst. "Let's start at the top."

It took them nearly two hours to clean and dress all of Sam's wounds, some like the original head wound had been left too long and would always be there, a permanent reminder of the torture he had been through at Gordon's hands. Sam's neck was a mass of multi colored bruises and both men hazarded a guess that the throat underneath was damaged, but until Sam woke they had know way of saying how bad.

Most of the other bruises, that covered the younger man's body, though had turned out to be just that, no breakages could be felt underneath, no swelling that would signify internal bleeds. Although they suspected that his ribs had taken a battering and would be bruised to the bone.

Sam's back and his leg weren't so lucky. The whipping he had sustained had been so bad there was hardly any unbroken skin left on his back, they could only be thankful that none of the splits looked deep, but again having been left unattended, infection had taken hold, fever ravishing his body. All they could do was clean and dress it and try and keep Sam from lying on it.

The one and only time Dean had seen Sam; he had noticed that he was leaning heavily on his left leg, after cutting off his tattered jeans they found out why. His right knee was swollen so badly they had feared that it was dislocated or broken, Bobby in the end reasoning that even Sam would have struggled to stand on it if it had been, and it was just another way of Gordon to show his dominance, by making it harder for Sam to try and escape.

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Sam, throughout all Bobby and Dean's administrations, had remained unconscious something that began to concern both men. They desperately needed to administer a fever reducer, antibiotics and pain killers, but were reluctant to do so not knowing what Gordon had been feeding Sam and if it would react and cause the younger man even more damage.

No, they would have to leave the young man in pain until they could find out just what he had been given. Bobby had an idea from the brief description that Dean had told him of Sam's blown pupils, and the way Sam thought Dean was something else, add to that the tremors and the sweating and Bobby was sure it was some type of hallucinogenic, but he couldn't take the chance.

Dean had reluctantly agreed to have his own injuries treated whilst they waited. Like Sam, Dean also turned out to look a lot worse than he actually was, Gordon seemingly hadn't wanted to rush killing them, just wanting to enjoy the torture period, until he had gotten what he wanted.

A broken wrist, nose and probably two or three broken ribs, damage to his mouth and broken teeth, bruises and cuts, exhausted and dehydrated, Dean knew that it could have turned out a hell of a lot worse. As Bobby bound his ribs he dry swallowed the painkillers and fever reducer the older man had given him, but refused the antibiotics knowing that they would make him drowsy something he couldn't afford to be until he knew Sam was okay.

Bobby, knowing again that it would be useless to argue, resorted instead to watching over Dean relentlessly, refusing to allow him to do anything he thought too strenuous, which basically meant Dean was resting, all be it sat in a chair next to Sam's bed.

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Morning had turned into afternoon before Sam showed any signs of reviving, Dean's disappointment easy to see, when it was a nightmare that first had his brother stirring. He knew that they would eventually come, but had hoped that he would have been spared for a while. It was not to be though as the tell tale signs began and Sam was soon moaning and thrashing on the bed, and all Dean could do was try and stop his brother from undoing all the work they had done to his back, calling and pleading with Sam to please wake up.

Dean urgently called for Bobby as Sam got caught all the more in his illusions, sweat was pouring off his body, tremors pulsating through his frame. Dean was stuck his own injuries preventing him from helping Sam as much as he would like. As Bobby rushed into the room and began to help holding the younger Winchester down, Dean tried again to get through to Sam.

"Sam, Sammy, come on it's time to wake up. Come on Sam, wake up for me."

It felt to Dean that nothing was getting through, but he refused to give in and kept up the steady stream of words. Eventually he felt Sam begin to calm down and crouching down in front of his brother, he started to stroke Sam's arm, encouraging him to open his eyes.

His pleas gradually working, he watched as Sam's eyes rolled behind their lids before cracking open to slits, they seemed to survey the room, flicking briefly onto Bobby before landing on Dean's smiling face. The smile dropped, when Sam all of a sudden tried to push himself away from him, dropped his eyes and refused to look at him, his head shaking in denial.

"Sam? What's the matter? Talk to me."

Sam retreated as far as he could on the bed, his sweat soaked bangs drooping down and covering his eyes, eyes that radiated with pain, anguish and uncertainty. He didn't know what was real and what wasn't. The dream he had just escaped from lingering and confusing him all the more.

Was the Dean in front of him just another figment of his imagination, or not? Was this just another trick of Gordon's? To make him think that Dean hadn't died after all? He lay there shaking uncontrollably; tears mixing with the sweat that was now pouring off him even more. His mind racing with images but unable to process them in the right order, unable to tell imaginary from real.

He flinched as an arm came across to stroke the bangs out of his eyes, the touch so tender, so loving, so encouraging, so very Dean. Sam couldn't help it; he raised his gaze and finally looked back into his brother's eyes, now knowing from that one touch, that this Dean was real.

"I'm so sorry, Dean." He rasped out, sobs gathering in strength until his whole body quaked with them, as he remembered fragments of what he had done.

He felt Dean move onto the bed next to him and taking advantage of the seldom given opportunity, he buried his face in his brothers chest and broke down all the more.

Snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn

Dean looked over at Bobby as Sam's sobs gradually got under control, his eyes a mixture of worry for Sam and pure hatred for Gordon. He continued to stroke his brother's arm trying to bring him as much comfort as possible.

He hated that Sam would soon remember everything that had happened, that he would blame himself for it all. He knew that unlike the Meg incident, this would be something that Sam would never forgive himself for, yet another thing in his short life that he would carry around on his shoulders and all because of Gordon.

Dean's rage and hatred for the man grew stronger, as he lay there waiting for exhaustion to take Sam under once again, knowing that the minute it did Gordon was going to pay for what he had done. How? Dean hadn't decided, but pay he would.

**A.N. . . . . Hope it was okay? Thanks for reading, Peanut x**


	11. Chapter 11

**What goes around comes around.**

**Summary. . . . . Dean's taken, but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten, why won't anybody talk to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumpage, hurt and angst Sam to follow. Set after season 2 but no spoilers. Rated K+**

**Disclaimer. . . . . Still owned by Kripkie and the W.B. All mistakes though are mine!**

**A.N. . . . . Happy Thanksgiving to all who will be celebrating tomorrow, and Happy Birthday, again for tomorrow, to my biggest supporter my hubby, Kev.**

Payback on Gordon had been shoved to the back of Dean's mind as Sam's nightmares had increased in frequency and intensity as the day wore on. Each time it seemed to Bobby and Dean, that Sam would wake up feeling all the more insecure, petrified and guilty, the time it took to calm him back down getting longer and longer as the drugs wore off and Sam remembered more and more just what he had done to Dean, and what had been done to him by Gordon. He alternated between thinking Dean was still dead, to guilt and remorse for not being stronger, for not fighting harder.

The last time that Sam had woken, wild eyed and frenzied, fighting both Dean and Bobby trying desperately to curl up into the smallest ball, but his injuries preventing it, the two older hunters had resorted to sedating him, both unwilling to do so but realizing that Sam needed to rest, to heal. Dean had spent the past two hours since then sat at Sam's bedside refusing to leave him, refusing Bobby's insistence that he too needed to rest.

Guilt was also eating away at him, guilt that he had fought with Sam over a stupid prank, guilt that he hadn't gone with him to the library, guilt that he had let himself be caught also, guilt that he had back talked to Gordon resulting in Sam being hurt all the more, but most of all guilt that he had failed in his one true job. He had not looked after Sam.

He heard the door open up behind him as Bobby entered, the smell of coffee and food wafting in along side him. The thought of eating food turned his stomach though and he refused to look up from Sam, refused to acknowledge the other man.

"Dean? Josh cooked, you should eat something."

"Not hungry." Dean replied still refusing to look up.

"Dean, I'm not arguing with you, eat this now! Sam needs you strong, needs you alert, but the way your going you're not even going to awake the next time he comes to. Eat this, then we really need to do something about that wrist, and then you will rest otherwise I will get Josh to hold your scrawny ass down while I sedate you too!"

Dean finally looked up at Bobby, his green eyes shining with unshed tears, dark circles ringing them. "Scrawny ass? You were catching an eyeful, Bobby?" He tried to joke, a small smile gracing his face but not quite reaching his eyes. He sighed deeply before adding. "How am I going to fix this, Bobby?"

"By being strong enough to be there for him when needed, Sam's strong, once all the chemicals are gone from his body he'll find it easier to think clearly, he'll fight his way back."

"I know that he's strong enough to come back from the injuries, but what about all the crap Gordon has been filling his head with? We don't even know the half of it. All we know is that he told Sam I was dead, what if he filled his head with all that demonic child crap he was spouting off to me? Or even played on Sam blaming himself for Mom and Jess' deaths? You know, no matter what we say, he'd rather believe the worst in himself."

"You'll get through to him, Dean. You have to believe that you will, otherwise it will come across to Sam."

"I know, it's just so hard, you know? Why can't we for once just catch a break?"

Bobby couldn't answer, he just didn't know why this family that had given so much, couldn't just for once be left alone. So instead he tried again to get Dean to eat.

"Dean, eat this, let me splint your wrist and then get some sleep. Sam won't be awake for a while, I'll wake you up in plenty of time, I promise."

Dean backed down, he might be feeling nauseated at the thought of food but his stomach growling told him he was in desperate need of some, the grittiness of his eyes and the fact he could barely keep them open telling him too, that he should rest while he could. Bobby was right he had to be strong; he had to keep his strength up.

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Dean had slept nearly four hours before he heard Sam moving on the other bad, that registering in his mind even before Bobby shaking him awake did. Jumping up he rushed to Sam's bedside, just in time to see his brother timidly open his eyes. Dean watched as they, yet again searched frantically around the room, before calming down slightly at seeing Dean and Bobby's faces. He looked about to say something but changed his mind, instead averting his eyes to his hands that were fiddling with the cuffs of his hoodie.

"Sam, are you okay? Do you need anything?" Dean asked.

A soft shake of Sam's head was all the answer he got back.

"Was that no, you're not okay? Or no, you don't want anything?"

Dean's heart seemed to shatter as once again he was witness to Sam's tears.

"Hey, hey, Sam please stop, you're okay, we're okay."

"Why are you being so nice Dean?" Sam eventually asked, the words broken by sobs and barely audible.

Dean was dumbfounded. "You're kidding right?" He asked although he knew Sam wasn't.

"I hurt you Dean, I hurt you. When I close my eyes I can see you there, I can see what I did. I even hear and feel the bones breaking, Dean. How can you sit there and be nice to me? I turned into exactly what Gordon said I would, you should just leave me here before I hurt you again, or worse kill you. Better still Dean, make good on your promise and kill me, then you won't have to worry about me hurting you again."

"Sam, it wasn't you. Gordon drugged you, beat you, and brainwashed you. It wasn't you."

"That's no excuse, Dean. I should have been stronger, fought harder, and the feelings must have been there for me to do what I did."

"Sam, you didn't think it was me. You thought I was someone else. It wasn't your fault."

Sam shook his head his mind refusing to believe the words Dean was saying, refusing to believe he wasn't to blame, guilt eating away at him. He couldn't bear to look at Dean, couldn't bear to see the understanding, worry and love that shone from his brother's eyes. Understanding, worry and love he knew he didn't deserve. He turned onto his back before Dean could stop him, trying to get away from that look in Dean's eyes.

The pain didn't register at first, when it did though it was excruciating. He reached out blindly, his eyes automatically squeezing shut, for Dean's hand, crushing it when he finally found it as spasms of pain coursed through his body. His breath caught in his already damaged throat, the resulting coughing fit intensifying the pain. Bobby rushed forward, grabbing Sam by the shoulders he pulled him forward and off his injured back.

"Dean, talk to him calm him down."

Dean, already pained by his brother's refusal to accept that he wasn't to blame, had froze when Sam had cried out in agony, his own mind stuck on his hate for Gordon.

"Dean! Snap the hell out of it. Talk to him, you need to get him to calm down Dean, now!"

Bobby's words finally breached Dean's haze filled thoughts and he looked at his brother's face, his eyes no longer confused and guilt ridden, but scared and needy.

"Hey Sammy, breathe through it, you know how to, slow and easy." Dean kept up his words of encouragement until he could feel Sam's bone crushing grip on his hand loosen and his breathing return to normal, real tears mingling on his younger brother's face with the ones brought on by the pain and coughing fit.

"I'm so very, very sorry Dean." Sam's croaky voice eventually whispered out.

"I know Sam. But you really have nothing to be sorry for, please stop blaming yourself, it wasn't you."

Dean was pleased that he received a slight nod from Sam, but reading his eyes he knew that Sam didn't fully believe him.

"Sam?" Bobby's voice cut through the silence. "Try and drink this." At seeing Sam doubtful gaze he added. "It's just a painkiller, I shouldn't react with what ever Gordon was pumping you with, but it should help with the pain in your throat and back."

Sam, with Dean's help, managed to get the crushed up painkiller and water down his raw throat, his eyes slipping closed as soon as he had finished, weariness once again taking hold.

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As soon as his brother's breathing had evened out, Dean stood. He had waited long enough; it was time to deal with Gordon. It was time for Gordon to pay. Brushing angrily past Bobby, and stopping only long enough to pick out a weapon, Dean stomped down the stairs and into the room that had once been Sam's prison.

Josh stood from his seat, but didn't try to stop the obviously irate younger man as he strode straight for Gordon. Pulling his good arm back, Dean forced all the hate, anger, hurt and guilt into the swing and slammed his fist into Gordon's face. Bones broke, blood flowed and teeth shattered as the power from two weeks of hell connected.

The punches kept coming as Dean's adrenaline rose. All the hate, all the pain, all the guilt poured into every single one. Joshua's hand on his shoulder had him jolting back. He turned to look at the older hunter before returning his eyes back to Gordon's bloody, pulpy face.

Dean's shoulders slumped, he really wished that he had the strength and the will to draw out the punishment on Gordon longer, but he didn't. He was tired. Tired of hunting, tired of being hunted, tired of running, tired of never getting any thanks for what they did, tired of always giving, tired of hearing what Sam was to become, tired of getting hurt, tired of seeing Sam getting hurt. Completely and utterly bone weary tired.

"I was going to make you suffer Gordon, for what you did to Sam, but do you know what I figured out? That it would make me just like you! A heartless, soulless, sadistic, cruel, ruthless bastard! I'm not like you Gordon and I never will be. Do you know why? Because of Sam, he's the counter balance that stops me from turning into you. He's my soul, my conscience, my heart."

"You have always been wrong about him Gordon, he's more human than you or even I will ever be, and I'm thankful every day that he's my brother. If, and I mean if, Sam changes then I will do every thing in my power to bring him back, because this world is a much better place with him in it. Even if it means that it will kill me, I will find away. That is after all what families do for each other."

"But then again Gordon, you wouldn't know about that, would you? You just slaughtered your sister, you didn't try to help her at all, and you just killed her. You're so set in your ways, so sure that everything is set in black and white, no grey areas. You didn't stop; you just got rid of her like a piece of trash. You could have investigated, you could have checked, you could have saved her. Look at Leonora, there was a solution, but no you killed her."

"I refuse to do that to Sam, he's worth trying to save, worth trying to find a solution for, and he's worth dying for. I will do absolutely anything to keep him safe. I warned you before that I would kill you if you ever hurt my brother again, and if you know one thing about me Gordon, when it comes to Sam, I always keep my word!"

"You hurt my brother Gordon! Hell, you practically destroyed him. He carries around so much guilt it would cripple you or me, but he keeps going. He didn't need any more, but you just couldn't help yourself could you? You had to ladle on more, and for that one reason, more than the drugs, more than the injuries, I'm going to kill you!"

Taking out his favorite hunting knife, he plunged it to the hilt into Gordon's stomach.

Turning around to Joshua, Dean issued his orders. "Don't help him, let him bleed out. Salt and burn him when he's dead. I don't ever want to see him again and I especially don't want his sorry ass coming back and haunting us."

"What about him?" Josh asked pointing at Simon.

Dean, shrugging his shoulders, quickly replied. "I'll leave him up to you. Just keep it quiet, I don't want Sam to hear." With that he went to leave the room.

Gordon though wanted the last word, yet again. Blood bubbling out of his mouth, he laughed bitterly before he croaked and spluttered out. "Tell Sam I'll see him soon. If you really think that I'm as bad as you say, then I'll see him in hell!"

Dean couldn't help it, he tried desperately to calm his anger, but Gordon's words had ignited a match. With a swiftness that caught both Josh and Gordon by surprise he turned. Grabbing the blade he pulled it out of Gordon's stomach before plunging it back into his body again, this time straight into his heart. Refusing to turn away this time, Dean watched with a growing sense of satisfaction as Gordon at first struggled to take a breath, and then give in to the inevitable. Dean watched as the light finally left the callous hunters eyes.

**A.N. . . . . . As always I hope it was okay, I'll try not to keep you waiting as long for the next chapter. Thanks for reading and I'll catch you soon, Peanut x**


	12. Chapter 12

**What goes around comes around.**

**Summary. . . . . Dean's taken, but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten why won't anybody talk to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumpage, hurt and angst Sam to follow. Set after season two, but no spoilers. Rated K+**

**Disclaimer. . . . Still only loaning the boy's to hurt them a little. Any mistakes are my own though!**

**A.N. . . . . I'm so very sorry about the wait for this chapter; I had a small case of writers block. As always thanks for reading.**

**Also a massive thank you to Darksupernatural, who has been my little kick up the backside, encouraging me to go on when my muse went on strike.**

Dean, once he knew that Gordon was dead, left the room. He walked up the stairs, to where Sam lay, feeling broken and bone tired, a sudden longing to see his younger brother overwhelming him. Standing in the doorway, tears that he had been holding back suddenly broke free. He really was tired of hunting and for the first time in his life the apple pie, normal life that Sam had been so desperate to achieve didn't sound so offensive.

He hurriedly brushed at his tear stained cheeks as Bobby looked over at him. Who was he trying to kid, this was their life, it was all they had ever known and all they would ever know. Coughing to clear the blockage from his throat the tears had caused, he spoke quietly to the older hunter.

"Sam still out of it?"

"Yeah, he woke briefly before, but just fell straight back asleep, must have been the sedative that I slipped in with his pain meds. Gordon dealt with?"

Dean just nodded, refusing to look at Bobby, instead sitting down once more on the edge of Sam's bed and focusing on his younger brother, Sam automatically curling as best he could around his brother's form.

"You okay?" Bobby asked.

Dean couldn't help the sneering laughter that came out, it was such a small question but had many different contexts, which one did Bobby want answering? Was he okay in himself? Was he okay that Sam, and hell even himself, were beaten so badly? Was he okay that he had just killed a man?

"Yes. . . . No. . . . I don't know!" He finally answered.

Bobby coughed and rubbed his hand over his beard covered chin. "You wanna talk about it?" He asked around a small cough.

Dean just looked incredulously at him, no answer needed but one given anyway. "I'm fine Bobby, you must have been sat here too long you're beginning to sound like Sam."

"Yeah, guess so, it's not something you would normally hear from me." Bobby thought for a minute before adding. "I mean it though Dean, the offer stands, I'm here if you wanna. You want something to eat?" The older hunter hastily stuck on the end.

"Nah, I'm good. Do you think Sam will be okay to move? I really want to get out of this place."

"He should be fine. His back and knee will be painful for him, but if we dose him full of meds he should be okay. Where do you wanna go?"

"Well, I was kinda hoping that you wouldn't mind a couple of house guests." Dean sheepishly asked.

"Well I don't know about you but Sam there, he's always welcome." Bobby was glad to see a small ghost of a smile grace Dean's face in response to his banter. "I was kinda hoping you'd ask, Dean your always welcome, both of you. When do you want to leave?"

"Joshua's gonna handle the other dude and he'll make sure that they're dealt with properly, so as soon as I can get Sam up we'll load him in the back of the Impala, then follow. . . . . . What's with the face, Bobby? Do you think that it's too soon for Sam?"

Bobby didn't answer, just allowed Dean to remember on his own, which didn't take long. A look of pure horror, second only to the one he had upon seeing Sam, crossed his face.

"Bobby, where's my car? Please tell me you found her? Tell me she's okay?"

Bobby started to laugh. "She's fine Dean and she'll be waiting for you back at the yard, but this means that we'll have to wait for Josh to finish here. His truck will be better to move Sam in and it's back in town. We'll have to go pick it up in the morning. You okay staying the night?"

"Yeah, I didn't really want to wake Sam up anyway, not while he's sleeping without any nightmares, you know that's not going to last much longer."

"Okay, I gonna get some dinner cooked and check on Josh. Get some rest Dean; you look about ready to drop."

With that Bobby left the room, leaving Dean to keep his vigil at Sam's bed side. Awkwardly taking Sam's hand in his good one he sat for a while before he whispered to his unresponsive audience.

"Hey Sammy, Gordon's dealt with, he'll never hurt you again. I'm sorry that I allowed him to in the first place. I should have been there to stop him. I wish I knew how to help you through this, I don't think that me being here will be enough though, but I don't know what else to do. Hell Sam, I don't even know exactly what he did to you. He told me some and I can guess some more, but I hope that you feel that you can tell me the rest. Knowing how stubborn you are though, I don't think that you will."

Dean stopped briefly and wiped at the tears that had started falling again. Moving his hand up to Sam's head, he gently pushed his unruly hair out of his eyes, leaning over did something he hadn't done in a very long time and softly kissed his brother's forehead. "Rest well Sam, I'll be here when you wake up."

Not wanting to leave Sam, not even to go to the other bed, Dean sat himself on the floor and resting his head near Sam's stomach he took his brother's hand once more and promptly fell asleep. Missing Sam's eyes opening and the whispered words he softly spoke.

"I'm sorry Dean. I'm sorry I couldn't stop myself. You deserve a better brother than me."

Sam brought his other hand up to place on Dean's head, hesitating before he did so and deciding against it. Instead he placed his arm across his eyes, tears slowly flowing, slight tremors working their way through his extremities, quiet sobs barely heard.

Bobby heard them though and all the words the youngest Winchester had uttered. Standing unobserved and quiet outside the room he had stopped himself from entering when he had heard dean talking, just catching the end of his speech. He stopped again when he had heard Sam start talking, this was worse than he thought, both brothers' were broken and Bobby was worried that Dean might be right, that this couldn't be fixed.

He turned from the wall and stood in the doorway, watching as the two Winchester's slept, wondering to himself just when it was that the boys had become more than just fellow hunters to him. He heard Joshua come up the stairs but still kept looking at the two Winchester's.

"Everything okay Bobby? The guy's okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, they're fine. . . . . . . Awww hell, who the hell am I trying to kid? No, I'm not fine and neither are those two boys! If I could raise that idjit piece of crap from the dead just to kill him again, I would do! I just hope that Dean's strong enough to bring Sam back from this one, cause if he can't, Gordon will have won." Pausing, Bobby finally turned back towards Joshua. "You deal with the other one?"

"Yeah, knew we were pushed for time so I kinda went easy on him and didn't draw it out too long. I'm gonna get the truck take them a bit further into the woods and finish them off. When are we heading off?"

"I'll wake Dean when you get back and we'll go and get your truck. Dean will get Sam ready for when we get back."

The trip to Bobby's, after he and Josh had returned with both trucks, had been uneventful, Sam and Dean both sleeping the whole way there, all be it Sam's sleep drug induced once more. Dean had fallen into a routine during the week that had followed, keeping an eye on Sam, checking his wounds, trying to get him to open up, whilst at the same time trying to get him self back to full fitness.

A quick trip to the hospital had resulted in his wrist being cast properly and he was now slowly on the mend. He just wished he could say the same for Sam. Sam seemed to be getting worse each day. He refused to leave the room, barely ate, and he had lost that natural healthy tan he normally carried, his pallor now stark white, unhealed bruises and dark circles the only color showing on his skin.

Dean had also figured out that Sam wasn't sleeping at all. He would wait pretending to be asleep until Dean would crash before sitting up, curling in on himself, sobbing and rocking quietly. Dean had caught him out two nights previous and had spent the rest of that night and all of last night trying even harder to get through to his brother, trying to get him to say what exactly Gordon had done, so far though Sam had continued to reveal nothing, choosing instead to shut Dean out all the more.

Dean though was undeterred. Asking Bobby to make him self scarce for a while, Dean decided that today Sam would talk; today Sam would start on his long road back. After watching the older man leave the house to do some work in the yard, Dean walked upstairs, a cup of coffee in both hands, and into their room. Sam as always was curled up on his side, feigning sleep.

"Sam, I know that you're awake. We need to talk." He placed the two cups on the night stand and turned back hoping for some sort of response. At not receiving any he carried on. "Sam, come on we can't keep avoiding the subject."

That got a response from Sam, but not the kind Dean was hoping for. A mocking sneer formed on his brother's face, a bitter laugh escaping his mouth. "Isn't that the Winchester way? Hide feelings, avoid talking at all costs? Suck it up and move on?"

Dean sat on the edge of Sam's bed. "Maybe at one time, but things change Sam, plus I know that you need to talk things through and I need to know what happened."

"You don't know what I need Dean." Sam spat out. "And what difference will it make if you know what happened? Do you and Bobby want to gloat over the fact that I fucked up yet again? That I'm yet again the weak link? That I let Gordon get the better of me and use me?"

"Sammy, it's not like that. . . . . "

"It's Sam!"

"Okay, Sam. You know me, you know Bobby, and you know we wouldn't do that. We want you to talk to us so that you can move on, get back to normal, so the nightmares will stop."

"Normal? When will our lives ever be normal? When have they ever been? There will always be nightmares, Dean. There will always be someone out there like Gordon, someone chasing me. I told Gordon I was normal and do you know what he did? What he said? . . . . "

"No, Sam I don't, because you won't tell me!" Dean's frustration came out in his tone. He tried to calm him self before he spoke again. "Sam talk to me, tell me what happened."

"No!"

"Sam, please?"

"I can't Dean."

"You can't or you won't?"

"I can't Dean. Don't you get it? I want to forget, I don't want to remember. I want to forget the beatings, the feelings of hunger and thirst, of being so cold, of the desperate need for the drugs, of hurting you. I just want to forget it all."

"But if you don't talk about it Sam, you never will forget."

"Don't Dean."

"Don't what?"

"Just don't. Please just drop it."

"I can't Sam. I hate seeing you like this; it hurts me way more than what Gordon put me through. I just want to help you."

"You can't Dean. This isn't something that you can fix for me."

"Let me try."

"You can't."

Sam's tone changing should have been a warning to Dean, but he pushed anyway. "Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?" When Sam didn't answer, Dean pushed again. "Sam?"

Sam broke, his anger now flooding through. "Because I don't want you to. Because I want to feel this way. Because I deserve to feel this way!" Sam shouted out. "I hate myself for being so weak. I hate myself for what I did to you. At times I wish Gordon had succeeded in his plan to kill me, at least then I wouldn't have to feel this much pain."

"Sam, it wasn't you, please believe me. If you had of been in your right frame of mind you would never have done what you did. It was Gordon and the drugs. I didn't blame you then and I don't blame you now. Please Sam; please just let me help you."

"Don't ask me to remember Dean, please." Sam's tone now filled with despair.

"Sam you have to otherwise it will eat away at you even more. Please just tell me what happened."

"No!" Sam cried out almost pleading now.

"Sam please, tell me."

Again Sam wouldn't answer. Dean moved slightly attempting to get up, feeling that Sam had shut off once again. Sam's hand grabbing his though stilled him.

"You really want to know? I'll show you." He whispered his voice now a mixture of hurt, guilt, anger, frustration and doubt.

Opening his mind, but closing off the part that projected actual physical pain, he showed Dean everything that had happened to him. The beatings, the brainwashing, the drugs, the whipping all were repeated in glorious Technicolor in Dean's mind. He could feel Sam's doubts about his own future, his fears for Sam's safety, his anger and guilt when Gordon told him Dean was dead, his need for the drugs so that they would deaden the pain, if only for a while, his wishes for the hunter to end all his pain, his own thoughts of dying when he realized what he had done, his anger that forced him to use his new power on Gordon, his fears that after doing so he would be seen once more as a freak, his shame at having to face Dean, his fears of rejection.

"You see why I couldn't, didn't want to tell you? I knew you would hate me." Sam whispered out when he had finished, desperately trying to stay conscious, the use of his abilities and the pressure of keeping all the physical pain inside himself, taking everything out of him.

"Sam, I don't hate you. I could never hate you. You're all I have left and I refuse to lose you. I forgave you back at the house Sam, it wasn't you. You have to start forgiving your self now. If it had of been me in your place, wouldn't you ask me to do the same? Wouldn't you want me to talk to you, to forgive myself?"

Sam couldn't argue, Dean was right he would. He nodded weakly.

"Good, then please start forgiving your self because I really need you by my side, little brother. I don't think I would want to, or could, carry on if you weren't there. I love you Sam." The tears came once more as Dean said those words, words he normally had such a hard time expressing.

"I love you too, Dean. I'm so sorry that I hurt you."

Dean pushed Sam's bangs back again. "I know Sam. Listen you look beat, get some sleep before you pass out. I'll stay here and wake you if the nightmares come. We can talk more later, after we've gotten you something to eat."

"I'm so sorry Dean." Sam sleepily repeated.

"I know Sam, I am too."

Sam's eyes slipped closed and within seconds he was sound asleep. Dean stayed as promised, watching Sam for any signs of unrest, thinking over in his head what had happened. This new ability of Sam's did freak him out a bit, but like the visions he knew that he could accept it. He remembered when Sam had used his ability on Gordon, how much pain the man had been in and yet he had felt nothing. Sure he had felt Sam's feelings, but when he had watched Sam get beaten and whipped he had felt no pain. Not one bit. Was this an ability that Sam could control? Dean could only wonder.

He thought too about the future and what it would bring, for the first time since Gordon though this was something that he no longer worried about. He had Sam by his side and that as far as he was concerned was all that mattered. Sam would recover from this, he was sure of that now. So to Dean the future looked bright. Very bright indeed.

**A.N. . . . . . Well as you can guess that was the last chapter, I hope you all enjoyed it? Thank you so very much for all the support you have given me on this fic, it truly has been awesome. Hope to catch you soon with a new fic, Peanut x**


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